#but if you feel like where you are is too strong then it's easy to gather yourself and figure out what to do

[prettyangellllll]

Breaking Point

Disclaimer: 18+

Pairing: Blue-collar!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, strong language, dom!Rafe, rough wall sex, teasing, frustration, sexual tension, possessiveness

Summary: You were mad at Rafe—so mad that you refused to give him the satisfaction of your attention. But he wasn’t making it easy. He spent the entire day around the house in that tight white shirt, his muscles flexing with every movement, his black hat low over his face, his jaw tight from the work he’d done all morning. It drove you insane, but you wouldn’t let him win. You held out, resisting him, ignoring him, refusing to look. Until it was too much. Your legs felt weak, your body ached with need, and before you could stop yourself, you went searching for him—only for Rafe to take one look at you and finally put you in your place.

---

The house was silent except for the occasional sound of tools clanking in the garage, where Rafe had been working all morning. You could hear the low hum of music playing from his speaker, the bass vibrating through the walls just enough to remind you he was still there. Still lingering. Still within reach.

You were pissed at him.

You weren’t even sure why anymore—something about a stupid argument the night before, about the way he brushed you off when you called him out for being late, for not answering his phone, for making you feel like an afterthought. He had been exhausted after a long day, dirt smeared across his skin, his body aching from hours of labor. He barely gave you a second glance before collapsing onto the couch, and it had ignited something bitter in your chest.

So you were determined to ignore him today. To make him feel your absence the way you had felt his.

But he wasn’t making it easy.

Not with that damn shirt.

The plain white fabric clung to his torso, slightly damp with sweat from working in the heat, the short sleeves barely containing the muscles of his arms. He’d come inside for a drink earlier, and you had made the mistake of looking—of catching sight of the way his veins bulged as he twisted off the cap of a water bottle, of the way his jaw tensed when he took a sip, the flex of his forearm as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

And that fucking hat.

The black fabric sat low on his head, casting a shadow over his sharp features, his messy strands of blonde curling beneath the brim. He looked good. Too good.

You had spent the entire day pretending not to notice him. You didn’t look at him when he passed by, didn’t acknowledge him when he grunted something under his breath. You busied yourself with small tasks, pretending to be unaffected, keeping your distance even when you could feel his presence like a magnet, pulling at something deep inside you.

But it was getting harder to resist.

Your body was betraying you—heat pooling low in your stomach, thighs pressing together as frustration bubbled under your skin. You felt restless, wound up too tight, every little movement of his making it worse.

When you finally caved, you didn’t even realize what you were doing.

Your feet carried you down the hall, your breath shallow, your hands clenched at your sides as you searched for him. It wasn’t a conscious decision anymore; it was instinct, a need so overwhelming that you couldn’t fight it any longer.

You found him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he scrolled through his phone.

He looked up the second you entered.

His eyes dragged over you slowly, like he already knew why you were here, like he had been waiting for you to crack. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and that was it—that was your breaking point.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you were on him.

Grabbing the phone from his hand, you tossed it onto the counter, gripping his shirt and pulling him down into a kiss so hard it knocked the cigarette from his lips. Rafe let out a low groan, his hands instantly finding your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he pressed you against the nearest wall.

“Couldn’t hold out any longer, huh?” His voice was smug, deep and rough, laced with amusement as his lips ghosted over yours. “You were staring all fucking day.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, but your voice was breathless, desperate.

Rafe chuckled darkly. “That mad at me, huh? And yet, here you are.”

His hands slid beneath your shirt, palms searing against your skin, tracing the curve of your waist before gripping your ass, lifting you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, the hard press of his body making your head spin.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You hated him for making you say it. For making you admit just how much you needed him.

But pride didn’t stand a chance against the way he was looking at you—like he had been waiting all damn day to ruin you.

“Rafe,” you breathed, rolling your hips against him, feeling the hard outline of his length through his jeans. “I need you.”

That was all it took.

He kissed you hard, teeth scraping against your lower lip, tongue pushing into your mouth as he gripped your thighs tighter, pressing you against the wall like he was trying to mold you to it. His movements were rough, desperate—like he had been holding back too, like the sight of you all day had driven him just as insane.

His hands slid beneath the waistband of your shorts, yanking them down with a sense of urgency that sent a thrill through you. He groaned when he felt how wet you were, his fingers dipping between your thighs, teasing you until you were squirming in his grasp.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to look at you, his chest heaving. “You’re already dripping for me.”

You whimpered, head falling back against the wall, but Rafe wasn’t done teasing.

He lined himself up, dragging his length through your slick folds, taking his time, making you feel every inch of him before finally pushing inside.

The stretch was overwhelming, pleasure mixing with frustration as he filled you completely, his hands tightening on your hips as he set a brutal pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the space, his grunts mingling with your moans, the pressure building too fast, too intense.

“Fucking knew you’d come crawling,” Rafe rasped, his lips grazing your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.”

You wanted to deny it, wanted to fight back, but the pleasure was too much. All you could do was hold onto him, nails digging into his shoulders as he fucked you into the wall, as he shattered every last ounce of control you had.

It didn’t take long before you were falling apart, your body trembling, his name spilling from your lips in a breathless cry. Rafe wasn’t far behind, his hips stuttering, his grip bruising as he buried himself deep inside you, groaning your name like it was the only thing that mattered.

For a moment, the world was still.

Then he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his smirk lazy, satisfied.

“Not so mad anymore, huh?”

[smystermy]

𝐡𝐲𝐠𝐠𝐞

tags: geto suguru x you; canon-compliant (but it isn't important to this fic); set some time after his defection; you both co-parent nanako-mimiko; established relationship; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; making up after a fight; inspired by this prompt.

warnings: just a tiny bit of angst.

word count: 949.

oneshot, loosely related to 'peel your heart like a pomegranate'.

The house feels too quiet.

Not the peaceful kind—the kind that usually comes when Nanako and Mimiko are fast asleep, and the night settles over them like a thick, warm blanket. No—this is the kind of quiet that feels off, like an empty space where something should be.

Where you should be.

Geto exhales slowly, sinking deeper into the couch, an arm draped over his forehead. His fingers tap idly against his stomach as he stares at the ceiling, waiting.

For what, exactly? He isn’t sure.

Earlier, you had been upset—he remembers the sharp huff of your breath, the way your lips had pressed into a thin line, the little furrow between your brows that always deepened when you were annoyed. He had tried to smooth things over, fingers brushing through your hair, a quiet, “C’mon, don’t look at me like that,” murmured into the space between you.

But you had turned away from his touch, huffing, “Just—go, Senpai.”

So he had listened.

He had left, giving you the space you seemed to want.

And yet, now, something gnaws at him—

A quiet restlessness.

He shifts, turning his head toward the hallway, his eyes lingering on the door that separates you from him before they slip away, drawn to the ceiling above.

He wonders if you’re curled up in bed, arms wrapped around his pillow like it’s some kind of weak substitute for him. If you’re tugging the blanket up to your chin, trying to will yourself to sleep but failing. If you’re still annoyed, or if the silence is bothering you too.

Then—he hears it.

A shift of sheets. The quiet creak of the mattress as weight is lifted. A slow, hesitant shuffle of feet against the wooden floor.

Geto doesn’t move right away. He keeps his eyes on the ceiling, listening, waiting as your presence grows closer. He can hear the way your steps falter near the entrance of the hallway, like you're hesitating, like you don't want to seem like you’re seeking him out—but you are.

He almost smiles.

Instead, he turns his head just slightly, catching sight of you standing in the doorway, wrapped in his oversized shirt—the one he’d tossed onto the bed earlier. The fabric swallows you up, the sleeves hanging over your hands as you fidget with the hem. Your hair is mussed from sleep, your eyes still heavy-lidded, and there’s something soft, almost shy about the way you’re looking at him.

Like you don’t actually want the distance you asked for.

Geto watches you for a moment, his gaze warm and tender. His voice, when he finally speaks, is quieter than before. Softer.

"Couldn’t sleep?"

You hesitate, shifting your weight between your feet, like you don’t want to admit it. Like you’re debating whether to be stubborn or honest.

Then, finally—

"I don’t like being alone."

It’s not what he expected, but it makes something in his chest ache.

He exhales a quiet chuckle, tilting his head against the couch. “I thought you wanted space.”

You look away, fidgeting again. “I don’t need space,” you mumble. “I need you.”

There it is.

A slow, deeply fond smile tugs at his lips, warmth pooling in his chest, seeping into his very bones. You take a small, sleepy step closer, then another, your fingers reaching for his wrist. Trying to tug him up.

But you’re so drowsy, and your grip is weak, barely making him budge.

He lets you try. Lets you pull at him with those soft, tired little tugs. Lets you cling, wordlessly asking him to come with you.

It’s adorable. You’re adorable.

"You’re not very strong, huh?" he muses, his tone dripping with amusement.

You huff, brows pinching, lips pressing into a sleepy pout. “Shut up.”

He chuckles, but he doesn’t make you wait any longer. With an easy stretch, he rises, wrapping an arm around your waist. And the moment he does, you melt into him completely, pressing your face into his chest with a soft, content sigh.

Geto exhales, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he scoops you up effortlessly, carrying you without a second thought. His hands are warm against you, steady—like you were always meant to fit into his hold like this.

"C’mon," he murmurs, already walking you back toward the bedroom. "Let’s go to sleep."

Inside, Nanako and Mimiko are curled up at the far end of the mattress, their quiet breathing filling the space. The room is warm, the blankets soft, the air thick with the comfort of home.

He tucks you in first, pulling the blanket snug around you like he’s wrapping up something precious. Then, finally, he slides in beside you, and the moment he does—

You reach for him immediately.

Fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. Body pressing close, seeking his warmth like you need it to breathe.

Geto chuckles softly, tucking you even closer, letting you burrow against him like you’re trying to fuse into his skin.

"You're clingy when you're tired," he teases, brushing his lips against your temple.

"Mmm," you hum, already half-asleep, your breath warm against his neck. "You like it."

And he does.

He won’t say it, but he does.

As your breathing evens out, as your warmth settles into him and the weight of the day dissolves into the quiet hush of the night, Geto buries his nose into your hair, breathing you in.

If making up always feels like this, he might just have to make you mad more often.

…Not too mad, though.

Just enough to have you curling into him like this, clinging like he’s the only thing in the world you want to hold on to.

general masterlist || geto suguru masterlist

[sirenontheloose]

idk if you do requests but IF you do, could you do something comfort related with Daniela. Like have Dani be upset or hurt and the reader is comforting her. Sorry if this isnt very specific

a/n - Yes, I do take requests! I forgot to let y'all know, LOL. Thanks for requesting, anon! I hope you like this one :)

COMFORT

"Yet another rejection." Dani sighed to herself, tossing her smartphone onto the couch before making her way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

She knew from the start that being in the entertainment industry wouldn’t be easy, especially when it came to having a say in the group’s creative direction. It wasn’t just her ideas. The other girls’ suggestions had been shut down too. But with their hectic schedule, this rejection cut deeper than usual.

She needed Y/N. But her girlfriend was still in an online group discussion in their bedroom, and Dani hated the thought of disturbing her. So she decided to wait in the living room, letting the TV play in the background.

As if on cue, the negative thoughts crept in, and the sounds from the TV faded into nothing but static.

"Was it worth it? The long years of training?"

Dani was drained, mentally and physically, in ways she couldn’t even put into words. The exhaustion clung to her bones, heavy and suffocating, as her thoughts spiraled, each one darker than the last, dragging her into a place she hated. A place where doubt whispered cruel things in her ear.

"What if this is all for nothing?" she murmured to herself, voice barely above a whisper.

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as if pain could ground her. It didn’t. The lump in her throat only grew, thick and unbearable, threatening to choke her.

"This is so stupid," she muttered, shaking her head as she wiped her damp eyes. She was supposed to be resting, breathing, existing without the weight of expectations crushing her. But instead, she was sitting there, curled up under the dim glow of the TV, blinking away tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

She needed you. Her body ached for your presence, for the warmth of your arms around her, for the quiet reassurance only you could give. But you were still working, still behind that closed bedroom door, too far away even though you were just a few steps from her. She pressed a hand to her chest, hoping to steady the tremble in her breath. It didn’t work. Her safe place wasn’t here. Not in this silence. Not in this loneliness. It was you. You’re her safe place.

Before she even realized what was happening, she was pulled into a familiar embrace. Strong, warm, grounding. That was all it took for her to break. Her shoulders shook as she clung to you, trying to hold herself together.

"Why are you crying?" you asked softly, voice filled with concern as you ran your fingers through her hair.

"I don’t know," she admitted, her voice cracking as she let out a shaky breath. "I just... I feel like everything I do is pointless."

You held her tighter, resting your chin on top of her head. "That’s not true. You’re incredible, Dani."

She let out a bitter laugh. "Then why does it feel like I’m not good enough? Why do I keep trying if no one even cares?"

"I care," you whispered.

For a moment, she said nothing. Then, her grip on you tightened.

"I hate feeling like this," she choked out.

"I know," you murmured, rubbing slow circles on her back. "But you're not alone, okay? I'm here. Always."

You sat there with her in silence, not rushing her, not saying anything more. Just being there. Holding her close to you.

This didn’t happen often, but Dani had her moments, moments when the doubts got too loud, when the exhaustion won. And this was one of them.

[mk-wizard]

This is possibly the most random idea ever, but if I was to make a Shattered Glass version of Transformers One, the most crucial thing I would not change was Orion Pax and D-16 being friends, miners and their ambitions.

What I would flip is how each character's ambitions would be translated. D-16 accepting that he is a miner and wanting to focus on that would be flipped in a positive way in that he is humble, accepts himself and believes in hard work to get ahead. And he does want to get ahead, but the RIGHT way without skipping crucial steps and while playing fair. In other words, his mentality of "we're miners, we mine" is not him settling. It's him accepting that doing his damn job will get him ahead in life which technically, is not wrong. Hard work does get you ahead in life most of the time, but if the system is broken (which unfortunately it is), then you're justified in changing.

In Orion Pax's case, his ambitions of believing himself to be meant for something greater is rooted more in ego and delusion. He also takes not focusing on his work a lot further as he tends to sneak out way too much not to get into the archives, but to do stuff like gamble and such. That is another thing that separates SG Orion Pax from the other guy. He doesn't take risks as a leap of faith. He takes them solely out of foolishness and thoughtlessness. Also, his risks tend not to pay off. Most notably, he wants to get to fame, fortune and more the easy way as he feels a sense of entitlement to it.

Most notably, instead of there being an Iacon Race, there's an Iacon fighting tournament in the arena where it is an all out brawl and the last bot standing wins. A lot of bots suggest to D-16 that he joins because he's built like a tank and is as strong as one, but he's a pacifist and doesn't like hurting other bots. Plus, the risk of winding up dead or crippled does not appeal to him because the odds are still against him and he would rather be able to keep doing his job. One day, Orion enlists him without his knowledge or consent. In spite of not wanting to be there, D-16 WINS the fight because he is a natural fighter and survivor. It is also revealed that before he was a miner, he was a gladiator, but switched careers once he was able to buy his freedom. Even though he won, he is NOT happy that he did because of what he had to do.

The rest of the film plays out the same way, except the big moment. When D-16 is faced with shooting Sentinel... he freezes upon realizing how everyone around him is looking at him. It reminds him of how people looked at him with fear and like a monster when he was a gladiator, so he sobers and gives this speech.

"I hate you. You took my energy, my hopes, my life goals and my LIFE!! I want to kill you!... But I won't because if I do that, you'll take the one last thing I have: my dignity and I'm done giving you everything. And now that everyone sees you for the fake you are, you can't take anything from ANYONE anymore, so I'm going to let you live, BUT you're going to spend it giving back to the society you ruined. Starting with this."

Then he forcefully opens up his cog port and removes Megatronus' cog. As a side effect, Sentinel depowers into a pathetic weak looking little bot who dwarfs compared to D-16. That is when Orion suggests they use the cog to become the new leaders, but D refuses saying that he will not follow Sentinel's path nor will he reduce a true Prime's remains to a tool. This is when Orion has had enough of D-16 always holding him back, he fights D-16 for the cog and in doing so, pushes him off the ledge while he is still alive and falls into the abyss. While this is happening, Orion inserts the cog into himself and powers up before dragging Sentinel into the crowd. When he does, he watches them tear Sentinel apart with glee. Meanwhile, D-16 makes contact with the spirit of Megatronus who informs him that his code of honour, unbreakable spirit in the face of Deception and act of mercy has made him worthy in the eyes of Primus. In doing so, he gets rewarded with the Matrix of Leadership and dubbed as Megatron Prime, BUT he is also given the task of leading Transformers to a new age as the Autobot age is over and was one based on deception, so the new Transformers will now be called Decepticons.

Megatron Prime then faces off with powered up Orion, beats him and while he does, smashes his face in such a way that he completely destroys his lower jaw. Orion leaves with some guys, gets a mechanical lower jaw which also transforms into his mask and is pissed that the Matrix was given to Megatron. So he renames himself Nemesis Prime to symbolize what he is to his ex-friend now and to how HE should be Prime. Meanwhile, Megatron Prime honours his mission and does not forget about the people who supported him. The first thing he does is abolish the gladiator games and slavery.

PS: SG Elita-One is not a miner. She is a spoiled rich young woman who is one of Sentinel's many mistresses and a girl Orion had his eye on for a while. In the end, she goes with Nemesis because she's a gold digger and sees potential in him, and because even in this universe, she has fallen for him. I also call her Alita-Nill to differentiate her from her good counterpart. Megatron Prime has a girl too who is Nightingale (SG Nightbird) who is an aspiring singer and waitress as Maccadam's bar. As for B... he was always mute and is much more shy person. He joins Megatron because he was always so kind and protective of him like a brother figure. Also the "Rise Up!" catchphrase is turned on its head to be positive as in "Keep moving forward" or "Don't give up!"

What do you all think?

[supernotnatural2005]

The Arrangement - Chapter Four

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Things are growing tense between the you and Dean, buried feelings seemed to be bursting at the seems. How long until they finally burst? Is the real question.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings/Tags: Angst, the usual pinning idiots, fluff.

AN: Okay this chapter became way too long so I had to split it 😅 call it the first half to chapter 5, where we will continue on. As always I hope you enjoy! ☺️

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist < Catch up here

After your steamy shower escapades, you’d both decided to part ways for the night. As much as you wanted to bask in the aftermath, sleeping together—actually sleeping—felt like crossing an invisible line you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.

Luckily, you had an easy excuse. You had work in the morning, and Dean had an even earlier start for his long drive out to Stanford. And after a day filled with very thorough extracurricular activities, the moment your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light.

By the time you woke up, Dean was already gone. A small part of you felt miffed that you hadn’t gotten to see him off—not just because of whatever this thing was between you, but because, at the end of the day, he was still your best friend. And you missed him when he wasn’t around.

That little pang of disappointment eased when you spotted the note on the coffee machine, still warm from where he must have made a fresh pot before leaving.

You weren’t prepared for the wave of emotions that crashed into you at the sight of his familiar scrawl. Why did he have to be so…Dean?

Letting out a long sigh, you lightly slapped your own cheek. Snap out of it. It’s nothing new.

Dean had always been like this. A natural caretaker. Your friend. That was all.

You shoved those unwelcome feelings down, drowning them in bites of warm, buttery pancakes and strong coffee. The food did wonders for distracting your heart.

By noon, you were about ready to throw in the towel. Your caseload was piling higher by the minute, the endless spreadsheets and budget reports turning into a blur of numbers. 

As the company’s-chartered accountant, you were used to the pressure—but Roman’s impulsive decision to buy into the Biggerson’s fast food chain had sent your workload into overdrive. You were now up to your eyeballs in audits and projections, making sure the company wasn’t about to haemorrhage money on a half-baked business venture.

A familiar teasing voice broke through your frazzled thoughts.

“Damn, I don’t know whether you need a drink or a cigarette.”

Spinning your chair around, you found yourself face-to-face with your favourite redhead, her signature smirk firmly in place.

“Can I have both?” you deadpanned, rubbing a hand over your already mussed-up hair. “Seriously, why couldn’t he wait until after the holidays for this manic decision? And why the hell Biggerson’s?”

Charlie plopped down onto your desk, crossing her legs as she shrugged. “Yeah, no clue. Although… Frank—”

You arched a brow. “Conspiracy-theory Frank?”

“The very one.”

Of course.

Charlie leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s convinced the company heads are actually cannibals, and this whole buyout is part of some elaborate scheme to fatten up Americans before they, and I quote, ‘chow down.’”

You burst out laughing, the stress momentarily melting away. “Wow. That’s a new one.”

“Right?” Charlie grinned before giving your arm a pat. “C’mon, let’s get some lunch. And then you can tell me why Gary looks like he’s been sucking on a lemon all morning.”

A few blocks away, you and Charlie found yourselves at Rufus’ Deli, home to some of Kansas’ finest sandwiches. Rufus himself was a legend—gruff, no-nonsense, and about as approachable as a guard dog, but no one could deny the man’s skills. His sandwiches were that good, drawing lines down the block every day.

Luckily, you and Charlie had managed to worm your way into his good graces over time. Whether it was your shared appreciation for his craftsmanship or the fact that you never tried to chat his ear off like other customers, he had developed a soft spot for you both. And that meant one very important perk—you got to skip the line.

So, when the lunch rush was in full swing and Rufus spotted you, a warm smile replacing his usual gruffness, jerking his head toward the counter. “What’ll it be today, ladies?”

You gave him your order with a grateful smile, and within minutes, you and Charlie were seated at your usual spot, tearing into your sandwiches.

“So,” Charlie mumbled around a bite of her chicken club, “wanna fill me in on the Gary sitch?”

You sighed, setting your sandwich down and swallowing before launching into the whole story. You kept the details light—omitting the drinking with Jo and the deeper parts of your frustration—but you didn’t hold back on the bare minimum effort Gary had put into your so-called relationship.

Charlie listened intently, her expression shifting from mild curiosity to full-on irritation. When you finished, she scoffed. “Damn. What a prick.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms before her lips curled into a mischievous smirk. “You know… you just gave me the incentive I needed to fill that douchebag’s computer with enough viruses to make it cry.”

You nearly choked on your drink, barely managing to cover your mouth as you laughed.

Charlie worked in the tech department and she was the company’s most valuable asset. The only one who came close to her level of expertise was Frank, and even he admitted she was the best. You’d met her in your second month on the job when she’d swooped in to fix a software issue you’d been struggling with. Not only had she solved it in minutes, but she’d also taken the time to teach you a few tricks that you still used to this day.

The two of you had hit it off immediately. She was a giant nerd at heart—quirky, sarcastic, and fiercely loyal. You’d bonded over your shared love of Harry Potter, both agreeing that Hermione was the real reason Harry even survived half his adventures.

“You know…” you smirked, eyes glinting with amusement. “I wouldn’t hate to see that.”

Charlie grinned, wiggling her fingers as if casting a spell. “Then consider it done.”

The two of you burst into laughter, the weight of your morning stress lifting—at least for now.

After lunch, you and Charlie made your way back to the office, the brisk winter air nipping at your cheeks and turning the tip of your nose red. The cold was sharp, but in a way, it was refreshing—like it was clearing out the mental fog that had settled in after your morning of spreadsheets and stress.

As you neared the building, Charlie shoved her hands into her coat pockets. “You coming to the company Christmas party tomorrow night?”

You blinked, nearly having forgotten about the annual bash Roman Enterprises threw right before everyone was released for their so-called ‘Christmas break.’

“Shit, I completely forgot about that,” you admitted, your breath visible in the air. Your mind had been preoccupied with... well, other things.

“Well, I’m only going if you are. I can only tolerate these people when I’m getting paid for it.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head. “I mean, I guess it’d be the decent thing to show our faces, right?” You shrugged, considering it. “And I do have to admit—Dick throws a damn good party.”

“Right? And there’s always a chocolate fountain,” Charlie said, eyes lighting up.

You hummed in agreement. “Fuck it. Let’s go. I can grab a new dress on my way home later.”

Charlie grinned, clearly pleased. “Oh! You should invite Dean. It’s been a while since I saw that knucklehead.”

That made you hesitate.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to invite Dean, but an office Christmas party wasn’t exactly a casual setting. And inviting him made it feel a little too much like... a date.

But then again, Charlie would be there. It wasn’t like it would just be the two of you. Three friends hanging out. Totally normal.

“Sure,” you said after a beat, forcing nonchalance into your voice. “I’ll ask him. Though he’s not a suit-and-tie kinda guy.” You chuckled, already picturing his disgruntled expression. Getting Dean to wear anything remotely formal had always been a battle.

Charlie smirked. “Tell him there’s an open bar. I’m sure he’ll be persuaded.”

You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head as you pulled open the office door. “Yeah... you might be onto something there.”

By the time you left the office, the sky had deepened into rich blues and purples, the last traces of daylight fading behind the city skyline. You made your way down to 9th Street, stopping in a few stores to find something to wear for the company Christmas party. Dick Roman always hosted black-tie events, and currently, your wardrobe leaned more toward casual attire, jeans, hoodies, sweatpants—not exactly gala material.

Luckily, it didn’t take long to find the dress. A deep red gown with delicate lace accents, an open back that dipped daringly low, and just enough side-boob to make going braless the only option. It was definitely more revealing than what you’d normally go for, but for some reason the thought of Dean seeing you in it, gave you enough incentive to buy it.

Once you got home, you decided it was finally time you got stuck into the gift wrapping. You slipped into your loungewear and set up in the living room, surrounded by wrapping paper, ribbons, and bows. 

Wrapping gifts had always been something you enjoyed—it wasn’t a chore but a ritual. You loved making each present look as perfect as possible, picturing the happiness on your loved ones' faces when they unwrapped them.

Dean’s gift was the last one left of the night, and it was by far the most meaningful.

You had managed to track down an original pressing of Led Zeppelin II—the very album he’d lost as a kid in the house fire. It had been bad, nearly costing Mary her life, the electrical damage so severe that renovations had taken years. They had lost so much—family photos, keepsakes, and among them, the vinyl his dad had given him on his 10th birthday. 

You could still remember the hours you spent in his room, the two of you lying on his bed, singing along to Ramble On, always a little off-key but never caring. Finding another copy had been next to impossible, but last month, Charlie had tracked one down in a tiny record store just outside of town. You had almost kissed her for it.

Now, as you carefully folded the wrapping paper around the record and tied a bow on top, you smiled to yourself. You hoped he liked it.

Just as you finished up, your phone buzzed. Dean. You ignored the flutter in your chest at the sight of his name and flipped open the screen.

“’Sup?”

“Why did I agree to this again?” Came Dean’s gruff voice.

“Because you’re a massive pushover?” you deadpanned.

“Do you know I’m currently parked out on a dirt road? No motels. Havin’ to rough it tonight.”

You bit your lip, picturing him scowling at his surroundings.

“I still don’t feel sorry for you.” You chuckled, and he let out a dramatic sigh.

“’Course you wouldn’t.”

You smiled into the receiver, adjusting the phone against your ear as you stacked the last wrapped gift onto the pile.

“You do realise Sam has a license and could’ve driven himself home, right?”

Dean groaned. “Yeah, but I kinda only got him some shaving foam and a razor for Christmas.”

Your mouth dropped. “WHAT?! That’s all you got him?” You screeched into the receiver. “No wonder you took, like, five minutes to shop. I thought they were your toiletries, not presents!”

“Yeah, well, now he’s got a road trip with his big bro to add to it.”

“You’re a nightmare,” you scoffed, shaking your head with an amused twitch of your lips despite yourself.

The line fell silent for a beat, the comfortable kind, before you remembered your conversation with Charlie.

“I, uh, had lunch with Charlie today,” you said.

“Yeah? How is the nerd?” he teased, though there was clear fondness in his tone.

“She’s good. She’s also plotting to destroy Gary’s computer with viruses.”

Dean let out a bark of laughter. “Brilliant.”

“She also reminded me about the company Christmas party tomorrow night.”

“Oh yeah? You goin’?”

You hesitated, trying to sound casual. “We agreed to go if the other did… but she also asked if you wanted to come.”

There was a pause. “Really?” Dean hummed. “Do you want me to go?”

Your heart thudded in your chest.

“I mean, I know they’re not really your thing. It’s a black-tie event, super formal,” you said quickly, then mentally facepalmed. Were you trying to talk him out of it?

“Sounds pretty terrible,” he agreed, and you panicked.

“There’s an open bar, though.”

Silence. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“Hmm. Now that does change things,” he mused. “I can come if you want me to?”

Your face flushed at the unintentional pun—although, knowing Dean, it was probably very intentional.

“More the merrier, right?” You shrugged it off, with a lame chuckle, wanting to smack yourself in the head.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Another comfortable pause settled between you.

“I’ll, uh, let you get some rest,” you said, softer this time. “Don’t want you falling asleep at the wheel.”

“Yeah, probably best.” He sighed, and you could almost picture him, all scrunched up in the backseat.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

“’Night, sweetheart.”

The next day, you busied yourself tidying up around the apartment. You didn’t want Dean thinking you were completely incapable of living alone, so you straightened up, wiped down the counters, and even tested out a few cake recipes for Christmas. 

After a few failed attempts, you finally landed on a winner—a pecan upside-down cake. It was soft, sweet, and had just the right crunch from the pecans. For a first try, it wasn’t bad. And that was exactly what Dean walked into a few hours later, when he finally arrived.

“Whoa. What the hell smells so good?”

You turned at the sound of his voice, smiling, and for a second, Dean forgot how to breathe. It had only been a little over twenty-four hours since he’d last seen you, and somehow, he’d missed you way more than he was willing to admit.

“Hey. I was just trying out some recipes for Christmas. Think I found a winner.” You cut a slice of cake and slid it onto a plate before handing it to him.

He eyed it suspiciously, glancing between you and the dessert. “You made this?”

You scoffed, your hands settling on your hips in a defensive stance. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

Dean smirked at your reaction. He lived to rile you up. Still, he picked up the slice and took a big bite. The second the flavours hit his tongue, his eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a deep, satisfied moan.

“Shit, that’s good.”

You swallowed hard.

“Really?” you asked, voice a little breathier than you intended.

His eyes snapped open. “You kiddin’ me? I think I just found my new favourite dessert.”

Your face warmed. That was high praise coming from him. Dessert was practically Dean’s second language—specifically, the pie dialect—so for him to say that about your cake. That was a damn honour.

“Well, that’s that then. Dessert is sorted.” You dog-eared the page in the recipe book you’d picked up while dress shopping, mentally noting to make this again for Christmas.

Dean took a seat at the island as he finished his slice of cake, the two of you making idle chit chat about his trip, and how much LA traffic sucked, when you got onto the topic of Sam and his new lady friend. 

“So, Is he punching?” You asked rather bluntly, a teasing smirk on your lips as you gathered everything coated in cake batter and dumped it into the sink.

“Oh, massively. She’s way out of my brother’s league.” Dean laughed, the sound rich and amused, and you raised a brow.

“Sounds like you’re just as smitten,” you mused, a little sharper than you’d intended. What the hell is wrong with you?

You turned your back to him to cover your idiocy, arms buried in warm, soapy water as you busied yourself scrubbing utensils clean.

It was just an innocent comment. It wasn’t like you cared if Dean thought some girl was attractive. You weren’t overthinking, not at all. Not about how easy it would be for him to fall for someone else, someone uncomplicated, someone not you.

Jesus, girl!

You were broken from your spiralling thoughts when you felt him behind you. His presence was unmistakable heat radiating off of him in waves, his scent a lingering mix of soap, leather, and the faded remnants of his cologne. It made your head swim.

A dish clinked gently as he slipped his plate into the water beside you.

“Do I detect some jealousy in that tone of yours?” His voice was low, teasing, the warmth of it curling down your spine.

“Pfft, you’re joking, right?” You scoffed, but the slight crack in your voice gave you away.

Dean heard it too. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was smirking. The self-satisfaction practically rolled off him.

You placed the last item on the drying rack and turned, only to find him closer than expected. Your breath hitched.

“No. I’m deadly serious.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears as his eyes locked onto yours, heavy-lidded and unreadable. The space between you shrank, an invisible force pulling you toward him. Like gravity, like inevitability.

Dean leaned in; his breath warm as it fanned across your lips. His hands braced against the counter on either side of you, caging you in. The heat between you was palpable, something crackling in the air, something that made your knees weak and your thoughts scatter.

Then—

His ringtone shattered the moment.

You jolted slightly, the haze lifting as quickly as it had settled. Dean sighed, raking a hand through his hair as he pulled his phone from his pocket. One glance at the screen and his expression soured.

“What?” he answered gruffly.

You took that as your cue to leave, slipping away down the hall and into your bedroom, pressing the door shut behind you.

You needed a breather. Badly.

What the hell was that?

He can’t be home for more than five minutes before you want to jump his bones.

And, seriously, “Sounds like you’re smitten?” What were you thinking?

You groaned, rubbing your hands over your face before shaking yourself out of your stupor. A shower. A cold one, preferably. Then you could focus on getting ready for tonight—because the last thing you needed was to be a flustered mess at a party where you were supposed to look put together.

The irony.

By the time you stepped out of the shower, steam curling into the air, Dean had left again. Apparently, Sam had forgotten one of Jess’s bags, the one containing all of her clothes for the next couple of days, in Dean’s trunk, so he had to drive back to his parents’ house to drop It off.

That allowed you to take your time getting ready, without being rushed for ‘hogging’ the bathroom.

You pampered yourself—lotions, perfumes, careful grooming (not at all for a certain green-eyed man). You took your time with your hair and makeup, allowing the slow, methodical routine to settle your nerves.

You’d just finished curling your hair when Dean returned.

Still in your robe, you stepped out of your room to grab a drink, only to nearly collide with him in the hallway.

“Oof.”

Dean caught you, steadying you before you could fully crash into him. Your hands landed briefly against his chest, warm and firm beneath your palms.

He chuckled, the sound low and easy, but then his gaze flickered over you, taking in your appearance.

A slow smirk spread across his lips. “You know, when you said black tie, I didn’t realise you meant the robe kind.”

You glanced down at yourself—silk black robe, tied securely at the waist—and realised what he meant.

Unimpressed, you looked back up at him. “Wow. You’re freakin’ hilarious.”

Dean barked out a full-bodied laugh, clearly pleased with himself as you brushed past him toward the fridge, shaking your head. You twisted off the cap of a beer and took a sip.

“Any more jokes like that out of you tonight, and you can stay home,” you warned, levelling him with a serious stare.

Dean only grinned wider but raised a hand in surrender. “Don’t worry, I’ll be well-behaved.”

But the dark glint in his eye told a different story.

He left you there and headed for the shower, while you worked to calm the nerves still rattling in your chest.

Tonight was going to be… complicated.

Questions would be asked.

Is Dean your date? Are you two together?

And you’d have to say no.

Which meant leaving him wide open for the kill.

The women in HR were like sharks in bloodied water—desperate, predatory, and not the least bit subtle. They’d be all over him tonight. And you weren’t sure if you were equipped to handle seeing it. Because those were exactly the kind of women Dean would bed. And you were basically serving him up on a silver platter.

Lord, give me strength.

By the time the clock neared 7 p.m., you were dressed and ready.

You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your reflection. You had to admit—you looked good. Hot, even.

The dress hugged every curves perfectly, the wide-open back revealing the delicate slope of your spine before stopping just above the curve of your ass. A bold red lip completed the look, matching the rich fabric of your gown. Your hair was swept up in a loose bun, soft curls framing your face.

Satisfied, you stepped out into the living room—only to stop short at the sight of Dean.

He was already dressed, waiting, phone in hand.

And he looked—

God.

A black suit, fitted just right, a crisp white dress shirt beneath. The same suit he’d worn for his parents’ anniversary dinner last year. It had looked good on him then. It looked even better now.

The broad set of his shoulders, the slim taper of his waist—it was unfair how well he filled it out. His hair was neatly gelled, but not too much. Just enough to keep that natural, tousled look in place. And he smelled… incredible.

He must’ve sensed your presence, because he looked up from his phone, and had to do a double take.

Holy. Mother of God.

Dean couldn’t breathe. It was as if you’d knocked the wind right out of his lungs just by existing in that dress.

You were stunning.

And that word didn’t even come close to doing you justice.

His gaze dragged over you, drinking in every detail. The way the dress clung to you, the deep red fabric a striking contrast against your skin. The soft glow of the light catching on the shade of your eyes, making them look brighter somehow. The way your lips—painted that same rich shade of red—parted slightly as you waited for him to say something.

Jesus.

He wanted to say something smooth, something that would make you smile, make you roll your eyes at him the way you always did when he teased you. But his mouth had gone dry, and his brain wasn’t quite catching up.

Dean cleared his throat, forcing his voice to work.

“You…” He exhaled, shaking his head slightly, his lips twitching up at the corners. “Damn.”

Your brows lifted in amusement. “That bad, huh?”

Dean huffed out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not even close.” His eyes met yours, more serious now. “You look incredible.”

Your breath hitched. He meant it—there was no teasing lilt in his voice, no smug grin. Just honesty, plain and simple.

You swallowed, feeling warmth rise in your cheeks. “Thanks,” you murmured. “You clean up pretty good yourself.”

Dean smirked, but it softened almost immediately. His gaze lingered, his expression shifting into something unreadable.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

The air between you felt different—thicker, heavier. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you, in the way his fingers twitched at his side like he was stopping himself from reaching out.

For a brief second, you let yourself sink into it. Let yourself feel the weight of his attention, the warmth in his eyes.

But then, just as quickly, you snapped yourself out of it.

“Alright,” you said, exhaling sharply and breaking eye contact. “We should get going before we’re late.”

Dean blinked, like he was shaking off a daze. “Right.” He cleared his throat and followed you to the door, as you grabbed your coat.

Dean opened the door for you, placing a hand at the small of your back as he guided you out. The heat of his touch lingering long after.

AN: I just want to bang their heads together! but at the same time, where would be the fun in that!? 😂 I hope you noticed I gave y'all a little break from all the spice in this chapter, but fear not, these too can never stay separated long 👀

(Also, if anyone reading this works in HR, it was just an idea I went with, I don't mean to offend or think HR is like that 😅)

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester/series Tag List:

@bettystonewell @nancymcl @happyfxckinghorrors @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @fangirlingfromdownunder @cevansbaby-dove @star-yawnznn @piptoost @shadysoulangel @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27 @idontwannabehere7 @maddie0101 @kr804573 @mrs-nesmith @zepskies @ohheyguyss @suckitands33 @ultimatecin73 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @arcannaa @aylacavebear @bobbdylann @waynes-multiverse @jaredpadonlyyyy @impala67stellawinchester @bonbonnie88 @youroldfashioned

Next Time...

Your fingers tightened around your glass as you watched her laugh at something he said—too exaggerated, in your opinion. He wasn’t that funny. And then, as if things couldn’t get worse, her manicured hand squeezed his bicep. That was the last straw. Charlie had abandoned you to use the restroom, leaving you with no distractions other than to sit and watch Dean practically fall in love with another woman right in front of you. Okay, maybe you were being dramatic. But he looked interested, smitten even, and it made your stomach churn. Deciding you’d tortured yourself enough, you pushed to your feet and manoeuvred through the crowd toward the bar. More alcohol seemed like the only logical solution. Except, before you got there, you walked straight into someone solid.

[hhaechansmoless]

LIGHTS OUT [TEASER]

pairing: f1driver!haechan x PRmanager!femreader

genre: fluff, angst, romance, slowburn

description: Haechan, bold, aggressive and unrelenting, is back after a narrowly missed opportunity to become the world champion in 2024. This time, he's set his sight on making it all the way to the top. You, as his newly appointed PR representative, are assigned with the task of keeping up with a world of high stakes, unpredictable twists and well, him.

warnings: strong language, stressful situations, descriptions of car crashes and physical exhaustion, slowburn, honestly quite f1 heavy

teaser w/c: 700 approx. the total fic is around 33.6k (divided into 2 parts). Part 1 dropping on 4th March

glossary

AUSTRALIA, ALBERT PARK GRAND PRIX CIRCUIT

Thursday, Media day

March 13th

“Now, coming to you, Haechan. Last season was quite a close one, I mean, you managed to keep the fight up till the last 4 races. At a point I’m sure we all thought we’d see a new world champion in 2024. How do you suppose this season will turn out? Do you think that you have a car that can challenge for the drivers championship again? Where do you think the improvements have been made compared to last year?” The moderator asks.

“Well, improvements have been made everywhere… That’s the aim, is it not? Last year, towards the end it got a bit hard. We had issues with the floor and made a few strategic mistakes. But I think over the winter break, the team’s been working really hard and we’re confident that we can put up the fight this season too.”

“You have a new teammate this season, Lee Jeno. How will the team dynamics work out between you two? Do you think that, apart from other teams, your teammate could be your biggest opponent?”

“Yeah, Jeno’s done a great job at VCARB so it’s nice to see him here now. I mean, we’re both here to push the team forward. At the end of the day, we both want the same thing. If he’s my biggest opponent then that just means we’re doing something right.” Haechan laughs.

As the moderator moves on, Haechan zones out, fingers unconsciously tracing the outline of the two bulls on the can in his hand. He’s pulled back in when he's mentioned in one of Mark's questions.

“Towards mid season last year it was almost a three way championship fight. It was quite exciting to see Haechan and you pit against each other. After all, we've been seeing the two of you compete with each other in all the junior series too. How did it feel to reach that high rung with a friend?”

“We spoke about it during that time, actually.” Mark grins, “We've basically grown up competing with each other but to do it in F1 really felt like we were close to making it. I look forward to it this year too.”

“We should bet on it!” Haechan winks at Mark making the other drivers and the reporters chuckle, “It's about time one of us gets used to losing, you don't think?” 

Walking out of the press room, Haechan is slightly surprised when you appear right beside him.

“How'd I do?”

“Not bad,” you answer absentmindedly, scrolling through your notes, “The question about Jeno, you handled very well. The one about Mark, though? I think it's a very easy opportunity for these journalists to twist your words.”

“I was just joking, he knows that.”

You hum, “He does, but really, these people are out for drama and you just gave them a nice headline.”

Haechan scoffs, “They should thank me then, don't you think? First media day of the year and it's probably the most interesting thing they've heard.” 

He turns towards you when you laugh. “See! you do think that I'm funny.”

“I met your trainer this morning, by the way. Don't know why he suddenly came up to me. But you have some blind fold challenge to do for the F1 youtube channel and he's told me to tell you to be careful. Do not bump into anything, please. And try to be yourself there, I guess.”

“Woah, I've never had a PR person tell me that before. You're kind of nice, ____.”

“And you remember my name. We’re both making progress, I suppose.” You've come outside now and there are significantly more photographers than there were when you first came. 

Haechan, slightly ahead of you, stops and turns around, walking backwards. “Hey! That was once and you didn't even introduce yourself to me.” 

“Didn't have the time,” You shrug, “All the best. The challenge is being filmed near Alpine’s hospitality. You're doing it with Xiaojun. I have to head back to the hospitality for a second but I'll be there by the time you're done.”

[commanderlexaofthegrounders]

Tanagariel's Clexa First Kisses

Following the trend #10YearsofClexaKisses here you have the first kisses between Clexa in four of my works!

Between the Sheets, Part I

Voices started to rise when Principal Kane shouted from the stage. “Calm down everybody, the back-up generator will be up in a minute. So stay where you are and if you need assistance a teacher nearby will be there in a second!”

Only a minute in total darkness. Who could need assistance in a minute? Probably Clarke Griffin.

0:59

0:58

0:57

Lexa turned Clarke around so they could be chest to chest. There was no need for light for they knew where they were. And their bodies were connected, communicating through touch.

Clarke was breathing heavily as well as Lexa, both their bodies were radiating heat from their dance; sweat draped their bodies. Lexa’s hands ran over her bare back and Clarke trembled.

0:43

0:42

0:41

Clarke hands moved over strong arms until she could anchor herself on firm shoulders and locked her fingers behind Lexa’s neck. Lexa’s hands rested on her lower back pulling her closer and then one soft hand rested on her cheek. “In the dark.” Lexa said and her warm breath tickled Clarke’s face realizing how close they were.

0:32

0:31

0:30

And that was it, the end of the world for Clarke Griffin because Lexa Woods was kissing her. Soft lips moved over Clarke’s tenderly and awaited permission, Clarke didn’t hesitate and opened her lips welcoming the kiss, and kissing her back. Lips tasting of Chap Stick and punch, and it was sweet.

0:15

0:14

0:13

Lexa changed the angle of the kiss deepening it, controlling the pace, filled with passion, and Clarke wanted to kiss her forever. This was surreal, nothing could have ever compare to being kissed by Lexa.

0:03

0:02

0:01

The generators were back on in full force; the lights blinded everyone for a second, but not Clarke who opened her eyes to meet the prettiest green eyes she had ever seen. Lexa took a step back pulling away from her.

“Clarke I…”

BANG  BANG!

And then chaos erupted.

2. Can't Tame this Wild Heart (Tarzan AU)

Lexa stood up and went into the forest quickly before coming back. She brought a flower and offered it to Clarke.

“Gift!” Lexa smiled as Clarke took the flower in her hand.

“This is pretty.”

“No, Clarke is pretty.”

Clarke blushed profusely.” Thanks, Lexa.”

Lexa sat closer to Clarke, she took Clarke’s hand and put it over her chest. “Happy with Clarke.”

She could feel how fast and strong Lexa’s heartbeat was.

“You make me happy too, Lexa.”

“Then we stay.” Lexa said simply. Her green eyes boring into Clarke’s. “We make new home.”

“Lexa.” Clarke let out a long breath. “Things aren’t that easy. You have to return to your family and I need to go back to my life.”

Lexa tilted her head slightly trying to grasp the situation. She huffed and shook her head.

Clarke reached for Lexa, cupping her face to make her look at her.

“Lexa, I know you’re angry and frustrated. Trust me, I’d love to spend more time with you, but things are complicated right now. I just wished…” Clarke realized how close she and Lexa were.

Her green eyes locked with her own, and then to her lips.

“Lexa?”

Lexa looked back into her eyes again. Suddenly she closed the gap between them and kissed her. It was a very sweet, innocent kiss. Tentative, guarded, but so tender. Clarke was paralyzed, surprised by the tender action. It wasn’t unwelcomed though because soon she closed her eyes and kissed Lexa back slowly, opening her lips to suck lightly Lexa’s plump, chapped lips. It wasn’t rushed, it was everything a first kiss should be. Fireworks behind her eyelids, and explosion of butterflies in her belly. But Clarke’s logic began to creep in her mind, telling her she couldn’t do this. Not to Lexa.

Clarke backed away. “I’m sorry, Lexa. We- we can’t.”

Lexa frowned again. “Wrong because I am girl?”

“What? No, no Lexa I ah, I don’t mind that you’re a girl.”

“Then why? Clarke does not like Lexa?”

Clarke chuckled. “No. I like you, but I can’t do this to you. I can’t do this knowing that you’ll have to go away, and it wouldn’t be fair to you. Your feelings, you have to grow some more to understand what you really feel. To be sure of those feelings. You might think you like me, but it could be just gratitude. Once you learn more you’ll understand that this isn’t simple either.”

“I am not confused. I know I like Clarke. We mate and make new home here!”

Clarke was now a furious red. “I ah, we uh, we can’t mate Lexa. I told you this isn’t simple. I’m sorry. I ah, I think we should get back to camp. It’s getting too dark.”

Lexa’s face was so heartbreaking to see. The confusion and yearning were so clear now. Her eyes that were bright suddenly became dull. Lexa nodded and picked up their stuff before making the way back.

3. Bokeh:

“Give me your cellphone.” Clarke extended her hand.

Lexa pulled out her phone and unlocked it. The blonde chuckled as she typed her number in the contact list.

“What?” Lexa crossed her arms defensively.

“Nothing.”

“Spill it, Clarke.”

She finished, returning the phone to Lexa. “You have Poison Ivy as your screen background?”

“Yeah, so what?” Lexa checked the new info. “Clarke Griffin?”

“Yup, that’s me and Harley Quinn is the more badass villain.”

Lexa had never been more offended in her life. “Oh god, get with the winning team here, Clarke. Seriously, Harley? She’s nothing but a puppet for the Joker!”

Clarke grinned mischievously. “I guess I’ll have to teach you who's on the losing team.”

In the blink of an eye, Clarke stepped into her personal space and claimed her lips. It was a very brief chaste kiss, just lip against lip, but it was like Lexa had been burnt. As if the oxygen had been sucked out of her lungs and the only thing that kept her alive were those soft, warm, lips.

“Thank you for the ride.” Clarke giggled taking two steps back, she turned on her heel and went to hitch a cab.

Lexa touched her lips not believing what just happened, the tingling left was warm and fuzzy. It was such a long time since she kissed someone, but this sensation was new to her.

A good kind of new.

Except it was with the girl who assumed she was Alexis, whom Clarke met at a nightclub and not awkward, lesbian disaster Lexa.

“Well, shit.”

4. Like an Open Wound:

“Clarke, I didn’t push you away because I wanted to be professional. I should but... It’s because I-” Lexa hesitated and Clarke wondered who was this Lexa who faltered with words and looked suddenly shy. “Because you’re you.”

“Wanheda, I know.” Clarke dejected. “Your assignment.”

“I told you that you weren’t just an assignment to me.” Lexa sighed in resignation. “I’m sorry, Clarke. I never meant to hurt you with my actions.” Lexa offered a small sad smile that broke Clarke’s heart. Lexa turned on her heel and began to leave the room.

“Lexa, wait!” Clarke tried to reach Lexa before the woman left her bedroom.

Her jealousy - because she was very sure that’s what she felt for Costia now - blinded her completely to what she was really feeling for the brunette. And of course, she misinterpreted Lexa’s words as well. Lexa had been saying something to her in her own Lexa way - between words - and it wasn't until now that she removed the jealousy fold from her eyes that she could see Lexa again.

Lexa and her weren’t so different at all.

Both were lonely, suffered deep loss and cared too much.

Weakness, Lexa called it.

Clarke called it strength.

In the end it was the same thing.

Wasn’t it?

There was only one way for Clarke to find out.

Clarke skipped the last steps to reach Lexa, cupped her face gently and closed the distance between them.

Her lips touched Lexa’s, and it was like everything was right in the world. Lexa was clearly caught by surprise, however, the tension slowly started to leave the brunette. Clarke felt Lexa melt into the kiss and open up to her, finally lowering her shields completely. Clarke took it as a positive signal to deepen the kiss, her hands moving to entangle into the soft chestnut braids and the baby hairs on the nape of her neck to pull Lexa closer, to eliminate any space left between them. Lexa’s hands were quick to find an anchor in Clarke’s lower back, keeping her steady and secure.

Nothing could have prepared Clarke for the sensations she felt by pressing her lips ever so softly against Lexa’s plump lips. It was out of this world, her heart was beating so fast, it felt as if it was going to jump out of her chest; but soon she felt the change in Lexa. The tightness of her jaw and neck so Clarke pulled away.

“I- I can’t...” Lexa said. “I’m sorry, Ms. Griffin.”  Her demeanor was back to the cold, stoic, emotionless woman. Her walls were so high that right now it was an impossible task to go through them.

She didn’t give a chance to Clarke to say anything else. Lexa was out of her room leaving her with nothing but want and regret.

[spideysl0ve]

݁ . 𔘓 ؛  letters to my heart

⇢ masterlist

⇢ series masterlist

⇢ akagami no shanks x bartender!reader.

⇢ tw: hurt/comfort ig,english isn’t my first language.

⇢ summary: hanks writes a letter.

my dearest y/n,

i don’t even know where to begin.

i’ve never been the kind of man to sit down and put words onto paper, but for you, i’d do just about anything.

maybe it’s because this time, leaving feels heavier. maybe it’s because, for the first time in my life.

i feel like i have something.

someone.

you.

worth coming back to.

by the time you read this, i’ll already be far out at sea, with nothing but the waves and the wind to keep me company. but even as i stand on the deck, surrounded by the life i’ve always known, my mind keeps drifting back to you, your laughter echoing through the bar, the way your fingers linger when you pass me a drink, the softness in your eyes when you think no one is looking.

i swear, if i close my eyes, i can still feel you beside me, warm and steady, like the one thing in this world that doesn’t slip through my fingers.

i know this isn’t easy.

i know that watching me leave time and time again must hurt more than you let on.

you try to be strong, and you are, but you don’t have to be, not for me. if you ever feel like the loneliness is creeping in, just remember that i feel it too. i may not be there to hold you, but i want you to know that my heart never really leaves you.

you once told me you didn’t want to be just another moment in my life, and i need you to know,you aren’t. you never were.

you are the reason i keep coming back, the reason the sea, for all its freedom, doesn’t feel as endless anymore.

because now, there’s a shore i long for, a place where my soul feels at peace.

and that place is wherever you are.

i don’t know how long i’ll be gone, and i won’t make promises i’m not sure i can keep. the sea is unpredictable, and so is the life i lead. but there’s one thing i can swear to you, with every fiber of my being: i will always find my way back to you. no matter how far i sail, no matter how many storms i face, i will return.

so, until then, keep the bar warm for me. keep your smile, keep your fire, keep living the way you always do, with that quiet strength that makes it impossible not to fall for you. and if, on the loneliest nights, you find yourself wondering if i still think of you, just know this, there won’t be a single day that goes by where you don’t cross my mind.

until i can hold you again, sweetheart.

yours, always and forever, shanks

taglist: @anamiad00msday @remasjoestar @colourfullgardenerduck @sukuna-wafiu @xenop0p

be added to my taglist

[sab0dssey]

Enemy!Kyle got me on my knees weak.

You walked through the streets of New York, illuminated with floodlights and billboards, extremely drunk. But accidentally drunk because of your friends. They forced you to drink. You never wanted to drink, right? How innocent.

The people passing, never giving attention to anybody but themselves. Which you loved about New York most. People minding their own business, not caring anybody.

You stopped at the stop. Looking for a cab. But too drunk for seeing straight. You mumbled something in your mouth. Narrowed your eyes, trying to see clearly, but car lights makin your eyes burn. With heavy sigh you gave up. Raised your arm, waiting for anything to pick you up. Since your friends dumped you by saying car is full. Bullshit.

You don’t remember how long you waited until you jumped with a loud honk sound. Groaned and lazily get in the cab. Pressed your head on window, sighed and closed your eyes. Exhaustion was winning his race.

The cab driver turned behind when he didn’t receive any answer from you, only to find you fall asleep. “Ma’am? Ma’am you need the tell me where are we going?” He asked.

When he was gonging to yell to you the car door opened. And a big, muscular man get inside. Carefully guided her head on his shoulder. And he gave the cab driver her address.

Cab driver was suspicious, but needed to submit when he felt the soldier’s deadly eyes on him. The cab driver gulped and turned his eyes back to the road, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

The man sitting next to you was built like a tank—broad shoulders, strong arms, and an aura that screamed danger. His sharp jaw was clenched, and his dark eyes remained locked on you, as if making sure you wouldn’t slip from his grasp. His grip on your shoulder was firm yet careful, almost protective.

The ride was silent except for the faint hum of the engine and the distant noise of the city. Every now and then, the cab driver glanced at the rearview mirror, catching glimpses of the man’s hardened expression. He didn’t seem drunk like you—far from it. There was a sharpness in his gaze, an alertness that didn’t match the easy way he leaned back against the seat. A soldier, the cab driver guessed. Someone who had seen too much.

As the car took a sharp turn, your head slightly slipped from his shoulder, and he instinctively adjusted, pulling you closer. He sighed, running a gloved hand through his short hair before looking down at you.

“Always getting yourself into trouble, huh?” His voice was deep, barely above a whisper. A small, almost amused smirk played on his lips, but there was something else hidden in his tone. Something like concern.

The cab driver, still unsure, cleared his throat. “She’s yours?”

The man turned his gaze to him, and for a second, the driver regretted asking. The look in his eyes was cold, calculating. Then, he exhaled through his nose, gaze softening just a fraction as he looked down at you again.

“Something like that.” He murmured.

Driver’s eyes met with his eyes again, “What’s your name?”

“Kyle.” He answered gruffly. Driver nodded and turned to road. “She looks so vulnerable. Don’t leave her.”

Kyle looked a little longer to driver. And then sighed. Nodding quietly.

The taxi moved slowly through the rain-soaked streets of New York, while Kyle glanced down at the girl resting her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed. Her face looked peaceful, yet her brows were slightly furrowed—as if she was fighting a battle even in her sleep. He took a deep breath. Seeing her like this, vulnerable, unknowingly leaning on him, tore something apart inside him.

This girl had been a thorn in his side for as long as he could remember. They were supposed to hate each other, weren’t they? The arguments, the stubbornness, the way she always found a way to get under his skin… But now, even in her drunken state, she unconsciously trusted him. The feelings he had buried for years screamed inside him.

When the taxi finally arrived at her apartment, Kyle carefully stepped out, handed the driver his payment, and carried her in his arms. She was so light… Yet, when they clashed, she seemed like she could shake the whole world.

Once inside, he sighed, shutting the door behind him. Gently, he laid her down on the bed, removing her shoes and jacket, adjusting the pillow to make her more comfortable. But his gaze lingered on her face. Her smudged makeup was evidence of how much she had drunk tonight.

He sat down and quietly picked up a makeup remover wipe. Normally, he would never do something like this, but… but she was different. With careful movements, he wiped her face clean. Her brows twitched slightly, but she didn’t wake up. Now, without the makeup, she looked softer, more… real.

Kyle took a deep breath. At that moment, he realized he couldn’t hold back his confession any longer.

“I wish you could see me differently, just once,” he whispered. “I’m tired of looking like your enemy. But if that’s the only way… if these feelings are meant to be one-sided… then I’ll accept it. I’ll keep loving you in secret.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head at his own foolishness. Slowly, he stood up, pulled the blanket over her, and took one last look at her.

“Sweet dreams, trouble.”

And with that, he quietly closed the door behind him, disappearing into the night.

© 2025 Heli’s writing ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

[shizuturnspages]

If she could even suffer injuries that would cause the reader to go into a coma,

I think that some fatui who were injured by the reader would hold a grudge against her and do something to her (I leave it to your imagination) .

The Cost of Defiance

Synopsis: After enduring Capitano’s ruthless training, you collapse—your body too battered to fight back. Unconscious and vulnerable, you become an easy target for those who once feared you. Resentment festers. Revenge lurks in the dark. Pairing: Yandere Capitano x Comatose Khaenri'ahn Child

The training ground was silent. Too silent.

The usual barks of orders, the clash of steel, the sharp crack of gunfire—all of it had stopped. The air was thick with tension, as if even the sky had grown heavy with the weight of what had just happened.

And at the center of it all—you.

Lying on the cold, frozen ground, your small frame barely rising with each shallow breath. The world around you was a blur of black and red, the sharp pain in your ribs dulled by the slow creep of unconsciousness.

You had fought too hard. You had resisted too much.

And Capitano… had not gone easy on you.

"Disobedience leads to failure." His words from earlier echoed in your mind. You barely remembered what happened—only that your body had finally given out. That something snapped. That the ice beneath you had been painted with crimson.

You had thought the training was over.

But the worst had yet to come.

A Debt to Be Paid

The Fatui soldiers who had been standing at the edges of the training ground began to approach.

They moved slowly, cautiously—like hyenas around a dying beast.

You had hurt many of them before. Wounded them in battle, humiliated them, proved yourself stronger.

And now?

You were helpless.

"How does it feel, little monster?" One of them sneered, nudging your limp body with his boot.

"All that power, all that defiance—and now look at you." Another crouched beside you, his fingers digging into your injured shoulder, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips.

"Capitano isn’t watching anymore. And we? We don’t take kindly to traitors."

Pain exploded through your body.

A fist—sharp and merciless—slammed into your ribs. Then another. And another. You couldn’t even fight back. Your vision swam, the dim light of the campfires above flickering in and out of focus.

"No one’s coming to save you."

Silence Falls

When Capitano’s officers finally arrived, the damage was done.

Your body lay motionless on the frostbitten ground.

A bruise blossomed across your jaw. Your lips were cracked and bloody. One of your arms—bent at an unnatural angle. And your breathing—shallow, weak.

A medic rushed forward, fingers pressing desperately against your pulse.

"We need to move them—NOW!"

But Capitano?

He said nothing.

He only stared at your broken, fragile form. At the pathetic sight of his little warrior—so strong, so stubborn—reduced to this.

And when they lifted you onto the stretcher, when your head lolled to the side and your eyes finally slipped shut—

He knew.

You weren’t waking up anytime soon.

The First to Act

You were comatose. Weak. Vulnerable. Helpless.

And they knew it.

They remembered every wound you inflicted. The broken ribs, the burns from stray magic, the bruises from where your tiny fists had landed. They remembered your eyes, how they glared with Khaenri’ahn contempt, how your hatred burned brighter than any flame.

They had been ordered to respect you—to obey the Captain’s will. But respect? That was never given.

And now…

Now, you were nothing but a child in bed, unable to fight back.

It started with whispers.

"She got what she deserved."

"After everything she did to us? This is karma."

"She’ll wake up and suffer like the rest of us."

And then, the first man stepped forward, with hope you'd never wake up.

A lower-ranking soldier, his left arm still wrapped in bandages from when you had nearly shattered his bones. He hated you. Not because you were strong, but because you were defiant.

He stood over your sleeping form, eyes filled with something dark.

"Little brat. Let’s see how strong you are now."

His fingers twitched—ready to strike, ready to hurt, ready to leave his mark.

But he never got the chance.

The Warning

The door slammed open.

And the room filled with an aura so suffocatingly powerful that every man inside stopped breathing.

Standing at the threshold, clad in unyielding darkness, was Capitano himself.

His presence was like a crushing weight on the soul, the force of it drowning out every hateful whisper, every bitter thought. His helmeted gaze fell upon the soldier, who now trembled at the bedside, hand frozen mid-motion.

"Move."

The command was low, slow.

Deadly.

The soldier stepped back, his lips parting as if to make an excuse—"I—"

"Move."

A second time. No room for defiance. No room for mercy.

The soldier fled. All of them did.

And Capitano? He stood guard. For the rest of the night.

When You Wake

It takes days before your fingers twitch. Before your breathing changes. Before the dark haze of unconsciousness loosens its grip.

When your eyes flutter open, the world is blurry—dimly lit, unfamiliar, heavy.

But you know one thing.

You are not alone.

The chair beside you creaks as someone shifts. A large hand, calloused, armored, deadly, presses lightly to your forehead.

"You will not die so easily," Capitano mutters. His voice is steady, but something else lingers in it. Something dangerous.

Your lips part. Your throat aches. You remember falling. Training. Then... nothing.

"What...?" Your voice is hoarse.

"You have been unconscious for four days."

Your heart pounds. Four days?

"They harmed you," he continues, voice quieter now. "They will not try again."

Your breath catches. You don’t need to ask who.

Because the bloodstains on Capitano’s sleeves already tell you everything.

[decepti-thots]

☕ i vaguely remember a meta post of yours mentioning that point one percenters were a useless concept and that it also messes up megs' narrative, i'd love to read the full version of that take!

You are remembering this post, which covers the basic reasons I feel like IDW Megatron specifically does not work as a point one percenter!

More broadly, I have two big problems with the concept existing in a general sense. The first one is that it's simply ill-defined in a way where it simultaneously is not clear what it even means and yet that ambiguity is not taken advantage of for storytelling purposes the way that, say, the nebulous idea of what an outlier is gets used. Outliers don't have a clear definition, in the story- but the basic concept of 'some of these robots can do weird superpower shit outside the norm, and they are recognised as being a kind of weird group everyone sort of side-eyes suspiciously' is easy to understand as a reader and by keeping it vague, it can be used to explain quite a wide variety of character abilities without running into too much nitpicky 'hey, but that ability doesn't really match what we know about outliers, so...' stuff. It's also presented pretty value neutrally a lot of the time; Skywarp and Thundercracker aren't like, Special Chosen Ones because they can do a couple weird tricks other characters can't, they're just sort of anomalies with a couple useful abilities up their metaphorical sleeves, yknow.

Compare that to a 'point one percenter'. What is the one-sentence elevator pitch for this concept? That their sparks are... stronger, somehow. (Higher energy? More resilient? Harder to snuff out?) Okay, and what does that mean for the characters, what does that do? Well. Maybe it's why Megatron is Just That Strong, apparently. MTMTE also says this, not being an outlier, is why Minimus can wear external armour without issue- but also it's not like every point one percenter can necessarily do this, so I guess it's different depending on the mech? Or maybe they can all do it and just don't. Who Knows. I guess it's why Overlord survived becoming a phase sixer- but it's not what makes him Just That Strong. But also I guess Megatron could beat him in hand to hand combat at some point. Magnus can't though, and he's ostensibly a point one percenter? Basically, there's never really even that very broad line drawn around what the hell it means or why anyone cares someone has an extra-radioactive green spark.

And I think the point there is that like... most of the fandom just assumes Minimus' ability is being an outlier, right? And for a good reason: a ton of the stuff point one percenters can potentially do is better explained by them simply being outliers! And there we hav a problem. Having these two unrelated groups of mechs that are nebulously Different And Special to explain certain things they can do that other characters can't is just confusing when really, one would realistically do, and the reason I think it's the point one percent concept that ought to go and not the outlier concept is that the latter just raises a lot less questions.

Questions like, you know, hey, why the entire hell does this comic need an objectively measurable way to tell if someone's soul is somehow just inherently kind of "superior by" some metric. That's such a bizarre fucking thing to introduce into a narrative trying to do what MTMTE is doing; if the forged/cold construct divide brings a lot of baggage into MTMTE's themes, the point one percent stuff is just a total albatross around its neck, IMO. All point one percenters have forged souls (even Megatron, that being the twist of EC), and point one percenters are all these big important genuinely Just Plain Better characters like Megatron and Optimus and so on where the reader is clearly supposed to have this feeling of like, 'oh of course those guys are the special ones'.

If there was some attempt to explore how like, being a point one percenter just meant you could lift real good or whatever and wasn't actually meaningful in any other way but became unfairly treated as a sign of greater "superiority" nonetheless, I might see a clearer goal to the concept being introduced; you could maybe do something with "this thing that is actually very small and arbitrary is fluffed up by the powers that be as way more than it actually is". But like... all the named point one percenters we ever see outside a couple cons Megatron made bigshots in the army are genuinely these people who outside just being physically very strong, are on a narrative level understood to be the sorts of characters one might call 'destined for inherent greatness', or something. Right? There's no random nobody never-did-anything-special Lost Light background character who turns out to be a point one percenter who's just Some Guy, or anything. They're all iconic named high command type characters with Epic Fates and shit, lmao.

(Minimus could have been that character, even as a protagonist, because of the conceit of his arc in MTMTE- but they really never manage it with him either, tbh. And again, it really feels like that was much more in line with the outlier concept, and fits better there anyway.)

There's just a lot of 'have your cake and eat it too' with this whole barely-touched plotline in MTMTE, for basically no payoff that couldn't be achieved another way. Where Roberts falters with character writing is IMO when he's writing characters he is kind of precious about due to being a longterm, hardcore fan with nostalgia- you see a lot of that sentimentality at points when he's writing these characters from his childhood like Optimus or Megatron. A sort of elevation of these characters due to their metatextual status as iconic and narratively important that other characters (including, notably, Rodimus) benefit from not being subject to. And the point one percenter idea is, ultimately, a way to try and make that an objective fact in universe, it feels to me. Some of these characters just are better in a special, vague, you-know-why way. But like. MTMTE is a story that wants to talk about how presenting certain kinds of people as Just Better is wrong and cruel, too- and that tension doesn't wind up being used for anything productive. So if there's one single piece of worldbuilding I would fully remove wholesale from the comic, it would probably be this one. More than just being largely narratively irrelevant, it's also genuinely something of a problem for the comic's attempted themes.

[bonzos-number-1-fan]

TMAGP 31 Thoughts: Extended Sounds of Brutal Crowbar Damage

And we're back again, after quite a wait, but it's a nice easy one to get back into the swing of things. Nothing explosive happened this episode really but a lot of foundation setting. However we've finally hit the part of the show that is now a sequel to The Magnus Archives. So, if any of you have somehow not listened to that and are interested to hear why things are so fucked, that would be how you go about it.

Spoilers for TMA, and TMP episode 31 below the cut.

I didn't cover it elsewhere so I'm going to start with Season 2's trailer. It's a nice, short, and sweet trailer so there isn't a whole lot to get into. There are a few bits in the transcript that are worth pointing out though. Firstly, it's referred to as the "London Exclusion Zone, Primeline" and "Primeline" doesn't appear anywhere else in this trailer nor episode one. That's likely a portmanteau of Prime and Timeline which I would take to mean this is the universe from Archives. Given the warden's worry about tapes and a few other notable bits of text from the premieres transcript I would say it's all but confirmed. The only other thing I think is worth mentioning here is that the scuttling creatures are described as having "too many legs". Which isn't incredibly relevant but does at least show they're supernatural in some sense.

Okay, onto the episode proper and now we can all say goodbye to the number 3 blorbo, Colin. I'll always remember the way he called me a gobshite because I sent him an email during the ARG, and the way he lost his mind because gays were in the computer. RIP, Colin, rest in processors.

There isn't really a load to say on this ep is general IMO. I think it's all pretty surface level but as with the trailer there are some interesting bits and pieces to pick out of it. In general though, I thought it was a very solid start to a season. Picks up right where things left off and lays a lot of groundwork for what's to come and isn't a load of info dumping.

So there are a couple of things to pick out from Colin's very messy and unearned death. During the long string of "Discard data"s there is one that reads "upload data" in the transcript which is for sulphur. Sulphur being one of the tria prima and an incredibly important element to alchemy. Now, the actual audio does say "discard data" and it might not be anything more than a mistake but it's an interesting coincidence if that's all it is. The elements listed are also in order of abundance in the human body.

hardware damage_crowbar/DPHW 4600

I believe this joke was written purely for me. No one can convince me otherwise. It's going in the masterdoc.

I don't think there is much to say on Gwen's, Alice's, or Celia's showing in the episode. They're all more or less doing "normal" stuff. The only thing I would point out is that Celia does do some lying in the episode without the usual distortions around those in the audio. At least not that I heard.

Sam is bringing the wet cat energy the Primeline was missing since TMA's finale. It's being met with mixed reception. Most of what goes on here is all pretty obvious I think. We meet yet another version of Georgie who is a little more rugged and generally done with everyone's shit. She's introduced in the text as "Georgie P" which I can only assume is Georgie Prime. This is further reinforced by Heidi's statement describing exactly what we saw of London post-Change. With the additional talks of domains and circuses I think it's fairly hard to argue this isn't TMA's universe post-season 5. Which has some fairly strong implications for exactly how that all went down and how much the world both remembers and has changed, but I feel like that might be bet to get into elsewhere. And likely by other people. Them naming a van after Gertrude is very sweet tho.

I think that's about all I've got to say on this one. Nothing to mindblowing and not a lot of crumbs to follow but it's a great start to a season.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Incident/CAT#R#DPHW Master Sheet and Terminology Sheet

DPHW Theory: 5555 sounds about right to me. It's not exceptionally spooky in any single sense but is pretty broad spectrum. Pretty standard stuff. Might as well mention that Hardware Damage (Crowbar) being at 4600 also lines up very well.

CAT# Theory: Our very first 123 which is something I've personally been waiting on. I've been very vocal about how I don't think the Person/Place/Object theory makes a lot of sense. However, this is one of the ones I wouldn't argue for there if you want to stretch it to Colin still being a person after "Integration", or you want to say that JMJ also count. Not that I buy the idea any more. Although it should be noted that Johnny says in the Q&A that the first few cases are wrong. Which means if it is P/P/O it should match up perfectly if you start from the bottom until you hit a point where the wrong ones end. I don't think it would from what I recall on my essay about why it's not P/P/O but it might. I was supposed to use the break to do some more work on CAT# but then I didn't. So I've got no real insights into this one.

R# Theory: B lines up pretty well. It would be confirmable that Colin is at least missing, but getting eaten by a server rack isn't particularly likely to be why.

Header talk: Integration (organic) -/- Computer (Hardware) is a fairly standard description IMO. I can't see much to really dig into there.

[zetomato]

The three states of QSMP play

I’m back for another neutral take (I know no one can be truly neutral, but I am ignoring my bias here alright? Good? Good.) linked to the QSMP! This time, with various kinds of plays on this server.

So. People talk a lot about “This one is always in RP-mode” and “This one doesn’t RP at all” etc. these days. But let’s break this down a bit, shall we?

Upon my many years of watching Minecraft server RP (aka, like 3 years, not that many but eh, they count), I’ve noticed something interesting in the way players interacted with the story line and their characters. In this analysis, I’ll focus on QSMP since it’s one server where players have said explicitly that they have “Characters” that they play. So let’s jump into this.

The first mode: Out-Of-RP (I’ll call it OORP)

This, despite what’s expected, is the least used by almost everybody on the QSMP (yes, yes, surprising for a few watchers, but let me explain). The OORP mode is one I define as: “When the Content Creator is fully out of game” This includes when anyone leaves their computer to go to the bathroom, when they mute themselves to reassure their chat that they’re doing intense RP and do not actually hate the others, when they talk about when they met in person (In Brazil, Paris, Vegas, etc). This is the mode where the things talked about are not linked at all to what would be happening right at this moment RP-wise.

The second mode: RP

This is what happens 90% of the time for most of the server. They do not have to actively be talking about their Lore, they can be building and talking to their chat about what’s happening, how the eggs are doing, what another character has said to them, etc. I define it as “When the Content Creator is playing their character”. The level of intensity varies between creators, but mostly, it is a very chill play. They sometimes are in that mode while huge Lore is happening and they aren’t super into it at the moment. They could be helping out, but they won’t react much to big events and might even distance themselves from the loudest people in the room. We saw that when BBH showed up with his amnesia RP when they got back to the server post Purgatory and Etoiles went OORP for a moment to say he was too tired to RP but still hang out with Bagi and BBH until he got too exhausted for the high-intensity of the scene and backed off. He was in RP mode when he cracked jokes and asked questions and answered Bagi’s worries, but he was way too exhausted to match the intensity of BBH. We saw that in multiple different exchanges and, yep! That’s RP still! It’s just easier to see the extravagant one when the other is more mellow, even if both are playing their characters.

The third and last mode: LORE

Alright, this one is very easy and yet I wanna describe it to be sure everyone’s on the same page. This one is “When the content creator is fully immersed and playing into his character about the events of the story.”. Now this one is tricky to distinguish from RP for some people/characters. For Philza, for exemple, when he goes into his “LORE Mode”, he changes the camera, the screen, the sounds, etc. Not all of the time, but it’s when it’s most visible. Almost everyone goes into LORE mode when something huge happens (Finding the eggs in Purgatory, meeting an important NPC, having their character Lore revealed, etc.) We saw this often during the Lore drops. When Baghera shared her Background in the federation, when Philza went to the Birdhouse, when Forever and Pac had their Happy Pills arc, when BBH played his grief when the eggs disappeared and when he came out of Purgatory… All of these were and are Lore moments which are easy to spot.

The problem with these is…

No one can watch absolutely everyone on the server. If not for the language barrier (Especially when some players’ translation breaks or when they do not put it on (that’s more of a problem considering the goal of multilingual conversation on the server)), for the sheer time needed to follow that. But this means that people will miss out on character LORE and RP for sure. People who don’t understand French will be lost when the French Content Creators mute themselves to point out something to their chat while speaking French. People who don’t understand Portuguese will be lost when watching Bagi and she starts speaking too fast to get a good translation. People who don’t understand Spanish will be lost when Mariana shows up and forget to properly set his translation after he speaks English for a while. People who don’t understand English will be lost when someone doesn’t set their translation when they start chatting around in English. And it is things that will and have happened. I know more Lore about Etoiles than some friends of mine because I don’t miss anything when he switches to French while in RP. Sometimes it's not a question of trying, it's a question of language barrier!

The real problem is actually when people start defining what constitutes the three modes by the way one or two Content Creators do them. No two have the same RP mode, the same LORE mode. Some are very intense on their RP so they go into LORE very smoothly, some are just as smooth but because both of these are more subtle. This server has a lot of people talking to each other for hours being in RP mode but since they don’t start doing LORE mode (which is more obvious), it passes over some people’s head that they are doing RP.

It’s a bit sad to follow someone for a while, following their POV, knowing how much they put into their character and how much they RP with the content they make. And then get someone who’s way more used to a brighter more obvious RP say that the creator you follow doesn’t do shit. It’s ok and expected to have many kinds! Heck! It’s great that we do! Or else the number of viewers would be lower. This way, people who like more intensive and noticeable RP and chaos can go towards the ones who give them that, and the viewers that prefer a more subtle approach where the big things are actually less noticeable, they can watch exactly that!

I won’t lie, I am enjoying the mellow side more than the energized one. I like to be able to work while I watch a stream, I’m able to when it’s two hours of building, or just people going across the map to find a dungeon. Purgatory, even while watching only one team most of the time, was way too exhausting for me, even if I had fun watching it and gosh every big event was nerve wracking, it was too much for me. I was glad to take a few days break for a while and, I will say it, BBH’s impressive intensive amnesia RP, viewed from Etoiles’ POV I was watching, drained me way faster than anything else. And you know what? That’s great! Because it means that people who love that kind of intensity are getting FED and that’s so cool.

Bottom line

I am begging for people to respect the fact that no two people have the same kind of play and RP. I have absolutely nothing against any personal preference since I know that what I enjoy makes other people fully bored, but words matter. No one out there should be going around saying “This CC’s RP suck! They don’t even do any!” when it just isn’t true. “This CC’s RP is way too subtle for me, I don’t even feel like they do any” THAT is a good take. If I agree or not with it, it doesn’t matter, but people are getting way too comfortable sharing their personal feelings as facts and that is why we slide into toxicity and anger towards each other. I personally don’t vibe with BBH’s more intense RP. And? It’s far from being bad RP, it’s just not my cup of tea!

TL:DR;

There are 3 Modes: Out-Of-RP which is fully meta, RP which is being in-character, and LORE which is being very intensively in character linked to events. No two streamers on the QSMP have the same level of intensity in RP and LORE and that is perfectly fine. Just don’t spread your preferences as if they were facts, it’s what feeds toxic exchanges and it can be fixed really easily by changing how you bring things to the table.

Thanks for taking time to read!

[elytrafemme]

if anyone wondered also, my top 10 måneskin faves are (note these change a lot in their placements but the actual songs themselves are consistent):

(1) torna a casa - (2) gasoline - (3) coraline* - (4) mark chapman - (5) for your love - (6) i wanna be your slave - (7) baby said - (8) don’t wanna sleep - (9) read your diary - (10) bla bla bla

* i put coraline in third after writing the tags 

[spideyjimin]

Wait for your love | jjk

—  pairing: firefighter!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: kind of exes to lovers, parents au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  summary: sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.

—  words: 17,383

—  warnings: strong language, car accident, blood, mention of pregnancy, mention of cheating, mention of divorce, mention of sex, sever injuries, mention of death, crying, mention of heartbreak, mention of breakup, oc suffers quite a lot, mention of unprotected sex, mention of fire, mention of fighting, kissing, pain struggle, tattooed!jungkook, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, praising, oc and jungkook are needy, choking, a bit of fingering, a bit of handjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, morning sex, slow sex (is it even a thing?), and creampie

—  author’s note: so here you finally have this fic 🤗 i’ve been working on it for a little while already & i’ve adored writing it! To be honest, this is my fav jk that i’ve ever written 🫣I truly hope you’ll enjoy this fic as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it ✨ don’t hesitate to let me know what you think of it ❤️

—  playlist: supernatural | forget about us | standing next to you | bed chem | juno

MASTERLIST

The sound of the sirens echoes in your ears.

Your eyes are completely shut, your entire body hurts, and you put your hand on your head as if you’re trying to stop the pain you’re feeling. Slowly you try to open your eyes, and you see the completely broken windshield of your car. You take a look around to notice how damaged the inside of your car is.

It’s pretty bad.

Your eyes flutter shut once more, the effort to keep them open too much to bear. Gradually, you feel yourself falling asleep. As you slip into slumber, your mind is drawn back to a painful memory — the day you gave your son up for adoption.  

Being a teen mother wasn’t on your plans. Even though you really wanted to become a mother, it simply wasn’t possible then. Having a kid at sixteen wouldn’t be easy and for sure, you wouldn’t be able to offer a proper life to that kid. It wouldn’t be fair to him to keep him only because you wished to become a mother. He deserved to have a good life, to have loving parents, and to accomplish all his dreams.

On top of that, the baby was living proof that you cheated on your then-boyfriend. Definitely, you weren’t proud of yourself. The father of your baby was a bit of a jerk, but, when he found out about your pregnancy, he showed nothing but support. It was surprising, but it felt great to have him by your side.

Giving your son up for adoption was devastatingly hard. But it was the best for him. After that, you spent the last sixteen years wondering what he had become. Every boy you met that’d match his age; you’d wonder if it was him. And sometimes, you’d regret abandoning him. In those moments, crying was the only solution.

As hard as possible, you resist the urge to fall asleep, but the headache is making this battle hard to fight.

“Ma'am,” you hear a distant voice.

Those words echo in your mind, and strangely, it feels like this voice is a familiar one. The pain must be causing some hallucination, you think. But as hard as you can, you try to find out who could be the owner of that voice.

While you think, your eyes open a bit before closing again. Your hand remains on your head, and suddenly, you remember who it is. It is the father of your firstborn.

As you realize who it might be, you shake your head. It’s impossible to be him. After the birth of your baby, you went separate ways and never heard of him anymore. Sometimes, you hope to meet him again to check what he has become.

That man was handsome as hell so you’re absolutely sure that he found someone, got married, and had children. From time to time, you think about him and wonder if he also thinks about your baby as much as you do. Maybe he doesn’t since you’re convinced he has new children to think of.

But that’s silly of you to think that because after your firstborn, you had three other adorable children: two girls, Jia and Jiwoo, and a little boy, Jeong. Being their mother and caring about them never made you forget about your first.

On top of being a mother, you also got married to Minkyu. You met him three years after giving birth, and you were convinced he was the love of your life. However, you ended up divorcing after eight years of marriage. It wasn’t easy, you felt like a total failure. Now, you’re living on your own, sharing custody of your three babies with your ex-husband. Luckily, you remained on good terms, you’d even say you’re friends now.

For the past two years, you’ve been focusing on yourself which means no relationships. But that doesn’t exclude one-night stands. You’re very careful as you don’t want your children to one day stumble upon one of the guys you’ve been fucking with. And you also want to avoid getting pregnant again.

When you planned on stopping the pill to have a child with Minkyu, your gynecologist told you that you seemed to be the fertile type. She was quite right since you got pregnant right after stopping the pill. In three years, you had three kids. So, it explains it all. And it also explains how you easily got pregnant at sixteen, the only time you didn’t use protection.

Now, you’re wondering if this is how your life ends. You’ve last seen your kids four days ago, you’re probably never going to fall in love again, and you’re never going to see your firstborn. This is a tragic way to die. Your mind only thinks about your babies.

Although your mind feels disconnected from your body, you sense a pair of strong arms lifting you up.  Your body is completely sore, and even being held in someone’s arms is painful. The person is talking to you, or at least talking to someone but your brain doesn’t process the words at all.   

Then, the pain knocks you up.

Jungkook and his team got called for a car accident involving several cars, and when they arrived, the scene was horrific.

There are probably five cars pressed and smashed one against the other. There are people injured and bleeding walking around the scene. Paramedics are already taking care of them, but Jungkook is walking to the cars to retrieve the people stuck inside. His captain screams orders and tells him which car he should go to.

His eyes look around, his heart breaking when he sees everyone involved and still stuck in their cars. Visions like this are quite common for him, it doesn’t happen all the time but it’s still recurrent. At the end of the day, his job is to save people in this type of situation.

When he reaches the car, he was assigned to, he takes a look at how many people there are inside. There’s just one person, a woman behind the steering wheel. She has her hand on her head, clearly showing that she might have a headache. She doesn’t really move. Instantly, Jungkook tries to open the door, but it’s showing a bit of resistance.

It feels impossible to open the door, but Jungkook sees the woman’s head falling. He’s getting worrier; she’s slumping into sleep which isn’t a good sign as she was holding her head barely seconds ago. He then proceeds to break the window so he can try to open it from inside. There are other possible ways, but it would be harder and more dangerous to get her out of the vehicle.

“Ma’am,” he says with urge.

Eventually, he manages to open the damn door from the inside. A good part of the car’s front is crashing into her. Before even thinking of taking her out, he places a cervical collar to protect her neck and spine.

“Ma’am,” he repeats. “Can you hear me?”

She doesn’t answer at all. Jungkook gets closer, his fingers brushing the hair from her face, but when he finally gets to properly see the woman’s face, his heart skips a beat. This woman is none other than you. His mind can’t start to get lost in the past right now. He needs to focus on taking you out of the car.   

You’re in pretty bad shape.

There’s blood on your forehead, you most probably have a wound on top of your head. There’s also blood at the level of your stomach, turning your green shirt into a very dark color. He can distinguish a big fragment of glass shoved into your belly. It doesn’t look good. Your legs are also completely smashed by the front, causing the steering wheel to be very close to your body.  Hopefully, your legs aren’t too injured. He doesn’t even want to start thinking about all the bruises on your body.

Slowly, he places one hand behind your back while his other hand slowly pushes your legs. He’s trying to be as careful as possible to avoid causing any other injury.  His strong arms hold you once he manages to fully remove you from the car. His eyes look down at your face with evident pain. He notices how you’re trying to open your eyes which makes him think that you’re trying to fight the urge to fall asleep.

“Yn,” he says while walking to an ambulance. “Please, stay with me,” he whispers with despair. “I’ve finally found you, and I can’t lose you right away.”

A tear streams down his face as Jungkook begins to run. “Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles when he realizes that you’ve now fallen asleep.  “Help me here,” he shouts to some paramedics.

Two people run in his direction with a stretcher, and he carefully places you there. His eyes never leave you until you’re placed inside an ambulance.

Never did he think he’d find you like this. For the past sixteen years, he imagined the many ways he’d stumble upon you. He thought of meeting you randomly one day in the streets, in a shop, or even in a restaurant. Meeting you after a car crash wasn’t on his mind at all.

Jungkook then proceeds to take care of the other people stuck in their cars. His job isn’t over yet, other people are waiting for his help. Thankfully enough, after so many years of experience, he’s able to focus on what he has to do.

Slowly, you open your eyes. Instinctively, you place your hand on your head since you last remember having a headache, but it doesn’t hurt—at least not anymore. For a brief moment, you close your eyes again while trying to understand what happened.  

Once you open your eyes once more, you look around to realize that you’re lying on a hospital bed. You’re in a room, an individual one. Although you’re alone in a room, can hear many people talking outside.

In the midst of all the noise, you distinguish your sister’s voice. You can’t really understand what she’s saying but she seems worried. Somebody is talking to her, but you don’t recognize the voice. After a little while, your sister opens the door to join you.

A smile appears on her face when she sees you awake. “Yn,” she says before hugging you. You wrap your arms around her, she’s holding you tight. There’s no need for her to speak for you to understand she was dead worried. It also leaves you wondering if you’re really in a bad situation.  When she finally takes a step back, you can see how worried she is.

“I was death worried,” she says. “I thought you died.”

Those words crunch your heart. The simple thought of picturing your sister thinking that is heartbreaking. However, you’re still here. Maybe not in your best shape but you’re still alive.

“Death was too afraid of me,” you jokingly say.

“It’s not funny,” she’s definitely annoyed that you’re joking. “It’s very bad, yn.”

Her eyes don’t betray her, it doesn’t look great. For sure, it’s bad since you remember seeing your car completely destroyed. Memories of the car crash come back. It happened quite fast. The car in front of you didn’t notice the car on the left. Two vehicles in front of you suddenly collided with each other. Due to the small distance and minimal reaction time, you were unable to stop in time, which led to you colliding into the cars. The same happened to the cars behind colliding into you.

“Two people died in the crash, yn, and the doctors didn’t give me many details when they called me,” she explains.

“How long have I been here?” you ask.

It leaves you wondering how long it has been since the car crash happened.

“Almost two days,” she informs.

“Oh,” you simply say.

Your sister then proceeds to explain to you that you went through a couple of surgeries.

When you arrived, you had a glass shoved into your stomach and it caused some damage. You were bleeding internally so you first had surgery to remove the glass and stitch any part of your intestines that needed to be repaired.

On top of that, your knees were destroyed and a part of your hips was broken. So after the stomach surgery, you went through a long surgery to repair your knees, and later on, another one to repair your hips.

Your sister doesn’t know the specificities of the surgeries, but those surgeries are already a lot. She also tells you that you evidently have bruises and scratches all over your body. It definitely sounds bad, but you’re under the influence of painkillers so you don’t really feel anything so far.

“Where are Jia, Jiwoo, and Jeong?” you ask looking around.

“Minkyu took them back home a couple of hours ago,” she tells you.

If your sister was dead worried, you can’t even start to imagine how your kids were feeling. You have such a strong bond with them, and they are still so young; your little Jiwoo is only four years old. You don’t even doubt that they started imagining the worst.

“How are they?” you ask.

“As you can imagine, it’s been harder for them than for anyone else,” your heart aches. “They’ve been crying a lot.”

You close your eyes, holding back the tears. It breaks your heart to have put your babies through this. Even though it’s far from being your fault, you never want to hurt your babies like that. Your role as a mother is to protect them.

“We’ve all been there for them,” she adds.

A tear runs down your face.

“Don’t worry, big sis,” she says before hugging you once more. “They’ll be so happy to see you fully awake.”

You hold her tight in your embrace to comfort you in some kind of way. For a little while, you both stay like this.

“There’s been a firefighter coming to visit you every day,” she whispers in your ear. “A handsome one, actually.”

A little giggle escapes your lips.

“Stop saying nonsense,” you give her a little tap.

She takes a step back with the brightest smile on her face.

“I’m very serious, yn,” she says. “The firefighter that saved you has been coming to check up on you.”

Well, it sounds like he’s kind of adorable. It’s definitely very sweet of him to take the time to check up on you after saving your life.

“He’s extremely hot too,” she adds.

“Stop it,” you say. “You’re exaggerating!”

“I am not!” she instantly replies. “You’ll see when he comes.”

You roll your eyes. She’s definitely unbelievable as always, but she’s your sister. You love her beyond comprehension because she was your very first baby. You have a ten-year gap and you’ve been taking care of her since the very first minute she was born. Your parents had her very late; they were almost 40 years old but the happiest.

When you were around two, they started trying to have a second child. However, it didn’t go as planned. Your mother suffered two miscarriages and after that, it became even harder to have a child. Eventually, when you were around eight, they gave up. They were happy to have you and settled with the idea that you’d be an only child.

But against all odds, a year later, she got pregnant. The pregnancy went to full term, and that’s how you became a big sister.

The gap between you was harder around your teenage years. All you were thinking about was boys, and all she wanted was to play. She also wanted to have a younger sibling, but your parents were already too old for that. Your mum said that she couldn’t handle another big age gap between her kids.

Your sister was the happiest when you announced your pregnancy at sixteen. She was only six back then, and that baby would have been like the little sibling she always desired to have. She was devastated when you explained to her that you wouldn’t keep the baby. Your parents were too but they understood and supported your decision.

Outside your parents, nobody ever knew that Jungkook was the father of your first son. At first, your ex-boyfriend thought that he was the father, that maybe a condom broke and that’s how you got pregnant. But you always knew that he wasn’t the father. It simply wasn’t possible. It all got confirmed when you birthed a baby that looked a lot like Jungkook.

You still remember how heartbroken your ex was, and you couldn’t blame him. The breakup was too hard to handle back then so you never told anyone who the father was, except for Jungkook. He deserved to know the truth. You weren’t expecting much from him as he was the basketball star of your school team. And above anything else, he was a complete jerk.

Nevertheless, he proved you wrong when he supported you. He was by your side for the entirety of the pregnancy. He came to all the ultrasounds and gynecologist's appointments. He was there, and he completely stopped being a jerk to your eyes. Eventually, you became closer, but you refused to be more than friends even though you had strong feelings for him.

Why?

Because it’d be too hard to stay with him after giving up your son for adoption. Jungkook was also supposed to leave for one of the best colleges after that. It was in another city, and you knew he’d stay if you dated. You refused to let him give up his dreams for you. You broke his heart; you could see it in his eyes, but it was for the best. If you were meant to be, you’d find your way back. But it never happened. After that, you completely lose contact.  

There’s a knock on the door. Your sister proceeds to open it, letting the person come in. “Speaking of the devil,” she turns her head to look at you with the brightest smile on her face.

When the famous live-savior firefighter enters, the entire world completely freezes. The firefighter is none other than Jungkook. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet. After all these years, you finally see him again.

A smile spreads on his face when he sees you awake. You can tell that he’s relieved. For an instant, you take a proper look at him. He’s still wearing his firefighter uniform, indicating that he most probably came from a mission — if that’s the correct word to use. His hair is very short and a tiny bit messy. Above anything else, he absolutely looks tired, the dark circles under his eyes betraying him.

“Hi,” he simply says as he takes a step inside.

“Hi, Jungkook,” you reply.

Your sister is at first taken aback by the fact that you know his name, but as she takes a proper look at your facial expressions, she can tell that you know him.

“I’ll leave you two,” she says before disappearing.

“How are you feeling?” he asks while getting closer.

“I guess fine for now, but not sure, how I’ll feel when the painkillers will no longer have any effects.”   

His eyes scan your face while yours do the same. His beauty is still breathtaking; you’d even say that he aged like fine wine.

“Thanks for rescuing me from the car crash,” you add.

“No need to thank me,” he instantly replies. “It’s part of my job.”

“I still need to. Without you, I wouldn’t be here today.”

Even though it’s part of his job, he saved you, and he deserves to be thanked for that. You would have said it to any other firefighter.

“It’s good to see you awake,” he says.

There is so much you want to say to him, but at the same time, now that you have him in front of you, you don’t even know what to say.

“I just quickly passed by to check up on you,” he informs you. “I need to get back to work.”

“No problems,” you reply. “Thanks for coming.”

“Would you mind if I come back later?” he nervously asks.

Your heart is now racing in your chest. Of course, you want him to come back so you get to catch up and find out how he went from basketball player to firefighter.

“No, I wouldn’t mind,” a little smile appears on your face.

“Thanks,” he says before waving goodbye and leaving your room.

Seconds later, your sister storms inside your room. She has that expression on her face that says: ‘who the hell is this guy?’.

“Who is he?” she asks while taking a seat.

She’s definitely expecting to hear something like: “he’s a guy I slept with after my breakup”, or “I met him at a bar”, or anything of that sort because it was obvious there was something going on between you. The look you both had wasn’t saying we were simply friends. It was a look screaming “something hot and sexy happened between us”.

“The guy that knocked me up sixteen years ago.”

“Mama,” your oldest daughter, Jia says. “When are you leaving the hospital?”

An hour ago, the doctor in charge of you came to explain the extent of the situation to you. Since you now have metal wires in your knees, you’ll have to go through a long recovery, and you’ll have to follow physiotherapy to learn how to walk again.

On top of that, your intestines were stitched, and it will definitely be hard for a moment to eat and drink. So, for at least ten days, you’ll remain in observation at the hospital. There is for sure a very long recovery ahead of you, but what matters is that you’re still alive.

For what is coming, you know you can count on your family’s support, and without any doubts, seeing your babies will help you navigate the hard times. Obviously, you’re also very self-aware that sometimes, it might be too hard, and during those times, even your support system won’t be enough.

“I’ll stay for a little while, boo,” you answer.

She seems a bit sad by your answer which is totally understandable. Briefly, you take a look at Jiwoo and Jeong to see if they also look sad, and they have the exact same facial expression as their older sister.

Your ex-husband, Minkyu is also present. It’s logical since it’s his week with them, and also because you were literally in a coma. When your eyes meet, you give him a little smile. By the way he’s looking at you, he definitely seems worried.

“But you’ll see, time will go by super-fast,” you try to reassure them. “And very soon, I’ll be home with you.”

You can’t wait to go home and be with them even though for a little while, due to the recovery time, it won’t be easy at all. But you’ll be with your babies which honestly is the only thing that matters.

Your babies jump on the bed and hug you. Feeling all this love coming from the little human beings you create warms your heart beyond comprehension. Although the pain is starting to kick in, you pretend like you don’t feel anything because you want to savor this moment with them.

Jeong, your son, shows you what he drew at school for you. He takes the time to explain what it represents. It’s definitely adorable. Then, Jiwoo tells you how her day went by. She played a lot with her friends, she learned to count until 20, and her teacher told her she was an amazing learner. Her face was shining, and you couldn’t be prouder.

Your oldest daughter doesn’t speak much, letting her younger siblings talk. You then try to make her talk about her day, but she bursts into tears, hiding her face in your chest. Your heart definitely breaks while you hold her in your arms.

“What happened, boo?” you caress her back, trying to comfort her as much as you can.

She’s heavily crying, your shirt getting wet with her tears.

“My little boo-boo,” you whisper. “What’s going on?” you add. “Tell me.”

She hugs you even more which squeezes your heart. You don’t like seeing your babies like that.

“I thought you were dead, mommy,” she sniffs.

“Oooh, my boo-boo,” you really want to cry at her words. Imagining her thinking that is one thing but hearing her saying it out loud is something completely different. “I’m so sorry.” That’s all you can say.

Jiwoo and Jeong join the hug, trying in their own way to comfort their big sister. This is a heartwarming hug, and it comforts you beyond comprehension. It’s hard to see them like that, but it’ll get better with time. Minkyu joins you for what is like a family hug now. This right here is the only thing that you need.

After this uplifting moment, your ex-husband and babies leave you alone in this cold hospital room. They need to go back home; the kids need to wash, do their homework, and get ready for bed. You wish they could have stayed longer because you don’t want to stay alone.  

The pain is now unbearable, and it honestly scares you for the long recovery awaiting you. Luckily, right after your family left, a nurse came in to give you dinner together with strong painkillers.

The food is —as imagined— disgusting. There’s nothing you can do about it, but tomorrow, you’ll try to convince your sister to bring you a pizza or sushi or some fast food. There’s no way you’ll survive ten days with this horrible food.

A little later, someone knocks at the door. As promised earlier, Jungkook appears inside your room with a bright smile on his face. You return the smile as it honestly makes you happy that he’s here.

“Hi,” you say.

For a brief moment, your eyes linger on his figure. He’s no longer in his firefighter uniform;  he’s dressed in an all-black outfit that, in all honesty, suits him well. A pair of jeans, a tight shirt, and a leather jacket give him an entirely different vibe from earlier. His hair, now perfectly arranged, makes him look strikingly similar to how he did sixteen years ago.  

“Hi,” he walks closer to you.

His eyes notice the serving tray with the empty plate.

“Was it good?” he points to the empty plate.

“It definitely wasn’t,” a little laugh escapes your lips while you shake your head. “The good thing is that the dessert was a chocolate mousse.”

Jungkook’s smile grows bigger on his face.

“Your favorite dessert,” he whispers.

Now, you’re the one smiling more. When pregnant, you could eat a chocolate mousse without growing tired of it. Due to that, you gained quite some weight during your first pregnancy. Anyway, it was the least of your concerns since you knew you were about to give your son up for adoption.

“You still remember…”

“How couldn’t I?” he instantly says. “You were eating it night and day.”

You giggle as you remember it.

“You weren’t helping too,” you accuse him. “Whenever I’d ask for one, you’d make it, and you’re a good cooker.”

Jungkook was your personal chef. Whatever dish you’d ask for, he’d prepare it. His mousses were so delicious that you found yourself always craving them. The ones from the supermarket simply couldn’t compare to Jungkook’s.

“Well, for my defense, I couldn’t let a pregnant woman starve,” he puts his hands up.

It doesn’t feel like sixteen years happened since you last spoke. It’s great you found each other again. It wasn’t under great circumstances, but he’s here now.

“That was nice of you,” you gently say.

“Do you mind if I take a seat?” he points to the chair near your bed.

“No, no,” you shake your head.

Jungkook sits down before turning to you. He’s incredibly close now, allowing you to get a better look at him. He’s definitely gotten older, the wrinkles on his face can’t lie. The beginning of a beard is also easily noticeable.

“How bad does it hurt?” he seriously asks.

“Is it that obvious?” you say.

Jungkook nods. Honestly, this time around the painkillers aren’t helping much. Your entire body aches, you can’t even say which part hurts more.

“It’s pretty bad,” you answer. “Even with the painkillers now, it hurts like hell.”

“If you want, I can call a nurse,” he suggests.

“No, it’s fine,” you answer. “I’ll probably need to wait a bit more before it really takes effect.”

Jungkook doesn’t really listen to you since he leaves the room. You roll your eyes but with a big smile on your face. It’s incredible how he didn’t change after all these years. He used to never believe you when you were in pain.

A few seconds later, he comes back with a nurse. They are talking, and he’s explaining that I’m in extreme pain. He’s exaggerating a bit the reality. However, the nurse administers you a stronger painkiller and she also tells you that you shouldn’t hesitate to call her if you’re suffering. Then, she leaves. Slowly, you’re finally feeling the pain going away.

“You didn’t need to do that,” you tell him once the nurse leaves the room.

“Yes, I needed,” he instantly says. “There’s no way I was leaving you suffering unnecessarily.”

Jungkook seems definitely concerned.

“You don’t have to play the strong girl after this terrible car crash.”

He’s not wrong, but this is one of your flaws. You’ll only take a painkiller unless you don’t have much of a choice. Most of the time, you don’t take anything as you’re convinced you can handle anything.

You simply nod while Jungkook sits again on the chair. This time, you start talking about what has been going on in your lives for the past sixteen years.

Jungkook barely managed to finish his college years because he honestly had his mind somewhere else. After all, he had become a father, given his son up for adoption, and had his heart broken by the girl he always had a crush on. He didn’t mention the last part. He had tremendous regrets about how everything went down.

Right after college, he became a firefighter; a passion he randomly discovered the summer before. Saving lives, and helping others in need is what truly fulfills him. He considers his job as his own therapy even though it’s not always easy to deal with the horrific visions he might encounter.

Eight years ago, he met a French girl who had recently moved here. They fell in love and had a little boy, Noah. He’s four years old today; the same age as your youngest daughter. His eyes were filled with love when he started speaking about him. He said his boy is a mini version of his mother so he barely looks Korean. He even has blue eyes.

However, he’s no longer with her. They broke up three years ago and they aren’t really on good terms today. She already threatened to move back to France with Noah. They went through a tough legal battle for their son’s custody. It’s a shared one, and Jungkook’s parents are the intermediates between them. They pick up Noah at her place to bring him to Jungkook’s, and vice versa.  

It honestly broke your heart to hear about all that. It doesn’t seem to be an easy situation, and hearing his story makes you feel even more grateful for the good relationship you maintain with Minkyu.  

Then, you proceed to tell him about what your life has looked like for the past sixteen years.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about our son,” you honestly say.

Four months ago, on the 2nd of June to be precise, your son turned sixteen. He’s the age you were when you gave birth to him. Since that day, you’ve definitely been wondering what he has become. Is he also about to become a father? You hope not.

“Well, I always think about him, but lately, it’s been more than usual,” you explain. “And I also imagine him with my other kids, and I wonder what bond they’d have.”

Jungkook only nods. “I get that,” those are his only words.

You refrain from continuing to talk about your son as it seems to affect him in some way. Maybe it’s simply too hard for him to think about that son you didn’t keep. You understand that so you prefer to stop talking. But his next words definitely catch you by surprise.

“I’ve found our son.”

Seventeen years ago

As you step inside the pretty big basketball court, your eyes immediately look for a place to sit. There aren’t many people watching the team’s training. You place yourself in the very last row, almost as if you’re trying to hide yourself —or to hide your little secret.

Instinctively, your eyes look for Jungkook, the best basketball player. He’s the reason for your presence. Quickly, you take a look at your watch. The training should be over soon.

Your heart is beating crazily in your chest. What you have to tell him isn’t easy, especially since you don’t really know what to do. You’re actually even convinced that he’ll tell you to fuck off. Jungkook is known to be a jerk after all.

The man notices you while running in the court. His eyebrows frown, as you’re the last person he was expecting to see here. The past month has been hectic because things have been hot and cold with you. For a while already, he has been having a massive crush on you, but he’s never said anything because you’re in a relationship with Minho.

Even though he’s known to be an asshole, he never wanted to be the reason for your separation. However, last month, you had sex, and you’ve been feeling guilty since then. He can only understand you so he’s stayed away to give you the space you need. Nevertheless, you would sometimes interact and to his surprise, you’d be nice.

“Jungkook,” someone screams.

He grabs the ball that is thrown at him, and he’s focused again on the game. The end comes rapidly. Jungkook walks directly in your direction and you give him a little smile. As he gets closer, he instantly notices the sadness in your eyes. He sits down next to you with heavy breathing. His face is red, his hair is wet, and he’s all sweaty.

“Hi,” he says with a smile.

“Hi,” you reply.

Deep down, he’s kind of hoping you’re here to tell him that you’ve broken up with Minho. That’s all he’s ever wanted, especially since he slept with you.

“How are you?” he asks with evident concern.

“Not good,” you bite your lower lip, tears already forming in your eyes.

Jungkook directly pushes you into his arms to comfort you. Tears stream down your face while you hold him tight in your embrace. You hold him as if your world depends on it. Quickly, you start sobbing which breaks Jungkook’s heart. He’s definitely worried now, especially since he would have never imagined you coming to cry into his arms. He gently rubs your back in silence, letting you cry in peace.

This scene seems unreal to him.

After a little while, you take a step back to clean your face, dabbing at the tears that seem to not stop. You’re sure you look like a complete mess right now with your red eyes, face ravaged with tears, and trembling hands. Jungkook is staring at you, his gaze filled with heavy unspoken words.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Don’t worry,” he replies.

Jungkook tugs a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s not easy what I have to say,” you admit.

“It’s okay,” he gently says. “Take your time.”  

Jungkook has never been a jerk with you. He’s definitely a tease, and he’s been teasing you for months now. But he has never been mean or rude. Even though it’s been quite obvious to you that he was flirting with you all this time, he’s been nothing but respectful and never crossed the line.

But that was until you couldn’t resist him anymore.

Obviously, he’s a very handsome guy and it flattered you a lot that he was interested in you. However, you’re in a relationship with Minho. He’s been your boyfriend for a couple of months, and you adore him. But Jungkook has shaken everything up. It was obvious that one day you would surrender to temptation.

Jungkook is very good in bed, there’s no doubt about it. Your one-night stand was a memorable one, but you’ve felt nothing but guilt since then. And you also hate yourself. How could you have done that to Minho? He’s been nothing but an angel to you. You clearly don’t deserve him.

“I’m pregnant,” you admit.

Jungkook’s body freezes completely. Of all the things he was expecting to hear, this definitely wasn’t one of them. This is quite a bombshell! This will forever change your life, and he can only sympathize with you. Now, it leaves him wondering if he’s the father.

“Is it Minho’s?” he asks after a couple of seconds. “Or mine?”

“It’s yours,” you inform him.

Although this is a piece of very destabilizing news, he kind of feels proud to be the father of your child. It’s a weird feeling but the chances of him being the father are quite low since you’re in a relationship.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“Of course, I am,” you almost sound offended. “I always use protection with Minho,” you whisper. “And if you remember correctly, we didn’t.”

“Right,” he nods.

You were so in the heat that a condom was the last thing you both thought of, but you used the pullout method. Looks like it wasn’t the brightest idea. It would have been best if you had been more careful. Now it’s too late to go back in time. Now, there’s a baby on the way.  

“I’m so scared to tell him,” you admit.

Tears start running down your face again.

“What will I become now?” you add. “My life is ruined.”

Jungkook cleans your face because he doesn’t like to see you in this state.

“Your life isn’t ruined, yn,” his thumb caresses your cheek.

“How can’t it be ruined?” you desperately say. “I’m pregnant; I'll give birth in less than nine months. My life will all be about that baby, I’ll have to drop school, and I’ll have to be a parent when I’m still a kid.”

The man in front of you can only understand your despair. His life will also drastically change from now on. Most probably, he’ll also need to give up on his dream college to work and provide for this baby.

“I’m here, and we will find a solution,” he whispers. “You’re not alone.”

You shake your head. There’s no way you’ll find a solution. It is simple: there’s a baby on the way, and outside that, there’s the whole situation where you cheated on your boyfriend.

“And Minho will be completely heartbroken,” you start crying even more. “Out of all people, he’s the one that doesn’t deserve that!”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. For sure, it isn’t great to cheat on your partner, but he knows he’s very much capable of doing it without having any remorse. He’s perfectly aware that he isn’t the greatest guy on earth when it comes to love. Even though he has a crush on you, he isn’t convinced he’d be the right one for you.

“My life is destroyed,” you repeat once more.

The basketball player pulls you once again in his embrace. His strong arms are comforting, and you realize now that you did great by coming to talk to him.

“We’ll find a solution,” he whispers in your ear.

Little did you know at that moment that he was right. A week later, you both agreed to give your son up for adoption. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was the best one. You could feel it inside your bones.

From your room’s window, you admire the landscape that stretches before your eyes. The view isn’t the prettiest but at least, it’s something different than the tv. For the past three days, you could only be lying and sitting on your bed. It’s been horrible.

Jungkook has been coming every day to check up on you, and you’ve been talking a lot. It’s honestly so great to reunite again and to finally discover what he has become for the past years.

Your sister has been very curious about your reunion with the father of your firstborn. She also asked if Minkyu ever knew about him. You never hid from your ex-husband the existence of your first child, but you never told him who the father was. There was no need to do so.  

Your sister informed your parents who saved you, and they already saw him again. They really liked him when you were pregnant, so they were very happy to meet him again.

Jungkook didn’t tell them that he found your firstborn, and you’re grateful he didn’t because you don’t even know what to do. You asked him to give you some time to process the information. He’s been nothing but respectful.

This morning, you started walking for the first time since the surgery. It was beyond painful to even move one leg, but you bear with the pain of walking a little bit. Since the first day, you’ve been having physiotherapy sessions to help with the recovery. At first, the sessions only consisted of moving your legs while remaining in bed. Now, you get to walk a bit.

The physiotherapist handed you a cane today. It’s incredibly glamorous!

The good side is that you can now move from the bed to the chair more easily. You obviously still need a lot of help, but it gives you a bit more freedom.

Slowly, you try to stand up as you need to go to the bathroom. Right there, someone knocks at the door before entering. You expect to see the nurse since you call for her, but you’re surprised to see Jungkook. As he notices you struggling to get up, he rushes to help you out.

“Shouldn’t you be asking for the nurse to help you?” he asks.

“The nurse should be coming,” you reply.

“Is it okay if I place my hands on your waist?” you shake your head.

His hands instantly reach your waist, holding you firmly while you stand up with shaky legs. Feeling his presence around you reassures you, especially with his strong arms holding you. Your eyes quickly glance at him when you’re proudly standing up, and he looks incredibly hot with his red cheeks and messy hair.

At this precise moment, you feel like your teenage self, who was deeply attracted to him. The version of yourself who had deeply fallen in love with him when you were pregnant. That nostalgic feeling kind of warms your heart.

“I’m happy to see you finally out of that bed,” a smile spreads on his face when your eyes meet.

His stare is softer now, and it’s evident that he truly means what he just said.

“Me too,” you admit. “Couldn’t stand being on that bed anymore,” you laugh a little. “It’s been driving me crazy.”  

The nurse finally arrives, but she instantly leaves as you inform her that Jungkook is helping you.

At a very slow pace, you start walking in the bathroom’s direction. Jungkook stands next to you, his hands very close to you, ready to catch you any minute.

“I’ve been thinking,” you start saying as you put your right foot in front of the other.  

“About?” he asks.

It’s extremely frustrating to be walking as fast as a turtle, but there’s not much you can do right now.  You have brand-new knees, so you need to learn to walk with them, which will take some time. Plus, you also need to adjust to the pain these new knees cause.

“About our baby,” you answer.

Jungkook is taken a bit aback; he wasn’t expecting you to bring the topic up this early.

“About Sunny,” you add.

Sunny is the nickname you gave to your son. Neither you nor Jungkook wanted to give him a name, as you knew it’d be too heartbreaking to let him go. The nickname came naturally, and it gave your son a human dimension. When you were pregnant, it almost didn’t feel real that there was a human inside you since you couldn’t see him.

A little smile appears on his face as he remembers how you used to call your firstborn.

“I’d like to hear the story of how you found him.”

For the past sixteen years, you’ve dreamed of meeting your son one day, but it was just a dream. You never thought that it’d actually happen. Obviously, you could have done everything in your power to find him, but that wouldn’t be fair to him. However, you’re now curious to hear how Jungkook found him.

“Well, maybe you should go first to the bathroom because there’s a lot to be said,” you simply nod.

Jungkook is wearing his firefighter uniform, and it suits him incredibly well. It definitely shows off his toned chest which could satisfy any hungry eyes, like yours, for example. Any lady would like to be saved by him.

Once you arrive at the bathroom, he waits outside for you. It takes you a bit of time to pee, wash your hands, and leave the room. It’s painful too, and all you hope for is to go through this terrible phase as fast as possible.

The firefighter helps you to sit on the chair, and his kindness warms your heart. No doubt that he makes a great life savior.

“So, tell me about Sunny,” you say the second you’re comfortably sitting.

Jungkook takes another chair to face you, and he rests his arms on the little table placed in between you.

“I found him to same way I found you,” he looks down at his hands with a little smile on his face. “I was called for a fire in a building complex almost two years ago,” he starts explaining. “It was early in the morning, something like 6 am, and it was a pretty big fire. There was a fourteen-year-old lying on the floor, coughing like crazy so I naturally took him out of the building.”

Jungkook takes a little break, his eyes going from his hands to your eyes. His stare is intense; it unsettles you at first.

“Once outside, I almost felt like I was looking at you and myself at the same time,” his voice is soft. “And one of my colleagues even said that the kid oddly resembled me.”  

You can’t imagine how it must have felt for him.

“I instantly knew it was Sunny, but I kind of didn’t want to believe it,” his eyes clearly show how sad he feels. “If it wasn’t him, it would have broken me. I was already going through shit with my ex, so it wasn’t an easy time for me at that time.”

It’s visibly not easy for him to be talking about the situation with his ex-girlfriend.

“A couple of days later, he appeared at the station with his mother to thank me for saving him. In the daylight, it was more than obvious we shared DNA. Even a blind person could see the striking resemblance, but nobody said a word as if we were all scared to say the truth.”

“That must have been an unbelievable moment,” you whisper.

“It definitely was,” he chuckles. “But looking back now, it’s almost funny. I still remember how shocked his mother was when she first saw me. Sunny looked confused, but his mother’s reaction was extremely funny.”

It eases your heart to know that he looks back at that moment with delight.

“The day after, she came back but alone this time because she wanted to talk to me.”

His right hand grabs one of your fingers to play with it, causing your heart to hammer crazily in your chest. Jungkook is incredibly nervous to be talking about those moments, and he needs to look at something else than you.   

“As you can imagine, she asked me if I was his biological father, and all I could tell her was that I wasn’t sure. I then proceeded to tell her that I had a son at seventeen and that we gave him up for adoption. She naturally asked me when he was born, and then, there weren’t any doubts anymore. He was undoubtedly Sunny,” a smile full of pride appears on his face. “I’ve been in contact with him since then, but I don’t force anything. I’m just happy to see him.”

For a moment, you look at him with wonder. This man is evidently happy to have found his firstborn and to be able to be part of his life. Jungkook didn’t really want to give his son up for adoption, and you knew it. For a long time, you considered changing your mind because it was obvious that he wanted to be a father. Even though you were in love with him, adoption wasn’t about you or him. It was about Sunny.

That baby boy deserved to have a good life. Not a chaotic one where you regretted having him because he was the impersonation of your sin, or because he destroyed your life as you became a teen mom. You weren’t able to give him what he needed, and it was the best decision to have a family giving him what you couldn’t.

“What’s his name?” you ask.

Right now, you don’t know if you ever want to meet your son. It already brings you so much joy to know he found his biological father. But you’re also wondering what his name is. He has always been ‘Sunny’ to you.

“Taemoo,” he answers.

That’s a pretty name. His parents found the perfect name for that little boy.

“It’s beautiful,” you say.

“Not as pretty as Sunny,” he jokingly says.

Your fingers wrap around his right hand. This is a vulnerable moment for both of you. It brings you back to a past where you were confronted with a harsh reality. Nothing was easy back then. You were ripped between your hearts and minds. The heart wanted to keep Sunny, but the mind was being realistic.

The tears shed from the day you had to give him up still haunt you to this day. The heartbreak painted all over Jungkook’s face never leaves your mind. That day was the hardest day of your entire life; it ripped your heart open.

“Do you think there was a possibility we could have kept him?” you ask with a shaky voice.

His eyes look up at you.

“Maybe,” he frankly answers. “If we weren’t that young and stupid, we could have been the parents he needed.”

“I definitely was stupid,” you shake your head.

“You weren’t,” he says without any hesitation. “You made a mistake, but that doesn’t make you stupid.”

“Say that to Minho,” you retort.

Jungkook giggles.

“I would never approach him, even now,” that makes you smile. “My face still hurts from his punch.”

After the pregnancy announcement to your ex-boyfriend, it was pure chaos. Minho went completely out of control due to his heartbreak. Obviously, he insisted on knowing who the father was, but you never flinched. Nonetheless, he instantly understood that it was Jungkook. He had noticed how he was constantly teasing you.   

So, the first thing he did was punch Jungkook in the face. The basketball player didn’t even fight back as he believed he deserved it. After all, he slept with a taken woman with absolutely no regrets.

Minho got even angrier because he wanted the player to respond. He was devastated by what happened, and you could only understand him. The day after, he went to another high school, and you never heard from him anymore.

“To be honest, yn,” he starts saying. “Back then, there wasn’t a possibility to keep him. My soul wanted to keep him, but it was for selfish reasons. I wanted to be a father but couldn’t be one back then. There isn’t a day where I don’t feel grateful for the tough decision you took and stand for. It would have been a complete disaster.”

His hand squeezes yours, and just right there, with his words and touch, you just burst into tears. Those tears just came by total surprise, but deep down, those are the tears you’ve been holding back for sixteen years. Hearing about your son and remembering the harsh moments you faced when he was inside you caused reality to hit you right in the face.

Jungkook instantly pushes the table aside to hold you in his embrace. You place your face on the crook of his neck while your arms wrap around him. It feels like you’re brought back to seventeen years ago when you announced your pregnancy.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t be sorry,” he responds. “You’re going through a lot now.”

There are some words Jungkook is dying to tell you, but it’s definitely not the appropriate moment. This is already shaking you up, so no need to add an extra layer.

Taemoo would like to meet you; it’s been actually one of his dreams. Jungkook has already told him a million things about you, and your son has been beyond happy to hear all those things about you. He also got to see a picture of you when you were sixteen.

So Jungkook definitely wants to tell you that Taemoo would like to meet you, but he doesn’t know if this is the right time, especially since he doesn’t know how you’ll react.

“Sometimes I regret so much that I gave him up,” you honestly say. “Sometimes it’s just unbearable to remember the day I handed him over to the adoption center.”

His strong hands caress your back in an attempt to comfort you.

“It’s normal,” he whispers. “I do too,” he admits. “There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about his birth and when we said our last goodbyes to him.”

You hold him tightly, his strong arms comforting you in an unbelievable way. You don’t want to let go of him. All you want is to cry in his arms until there aren’t any tears left.

“We did well, yn,” he tells you. “Sunny has been having a wonderful life. A life that we could have never given him,” he tries to reassure you. “His parents love him so much, allowed him to follow his dreams, and gave him everything he ever needed.”

As he got to meet Taemoo and his adoptive parents, he can reassure you now.

“They are adorable people,” he adds. “And they’ve been taking good care of our Sunny.”

Jungkook spent most of his life wondering if good people adopted his son, and he would have hated himself if it wasn’t the case. But when he got to meet Taemoo’s parents, he saw how great they were. And above anything, he saw how great they raised him. Taemoo is a wonderful kid with a wonderful soul.

Hearing those words definitely reassures you. It comforts you that Sunny has been doing well and landed in a loving family. At the end of the day, that’s all you ever wanted for your baby.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

The firefighter smiles while holding you a bit tighter. For a little while, you stay like this without saying a word. Reuniting with Jungkook is the best thing that happens in the midst of all the chaos your life has become. It also allows you to think about something else other than the excruciating pain you constantly feel.  

A nurse enters your room while you’re reading one of the many books you’ve had left to read for the past years.

“There is a young man who says he’s your son. Should I let him in?”

You frown in confusion, momentarily wondering if your son has been mistaken for someone else. Nevertheless, you nod.

“Yes, please,” you say, placing your book aside and grabbing your cane to keep it close, just in case.

A soft knock sounds at the door before it opens, revealing a tall, nervous teenager. Your heart stops as you take in his face. It isn’t Jeong—but your oldest son.

As Jungkook described him a week ago, Taemoo definitely looks like the two of you. Nevertheless, his resemblance with his biological father is surprising. There is absolutely no doubt that he is Jungkook’s son. You understand now his mother’s reaction when she saw the firefighter.

“Hello,” he says, his voice tentative, holding a bouquet of bright sunflowers.

His hands tremble slightly as he steps inside. As you look a bit more at him, you can’t help but notice that he’s dressed thoughtfully, a gesture that tugs at your heart.  

This moment feels absolutely unreal. Merely days ago you found out about his name, and today he’s standing in front of you.

“I am Taemoo,” he continues.

As you look at this not-so-little man, you wonder what you could say to him, but you have no clue.

“Hello Taemoo,” you manage, your voice soft and unsteady. “Come in,” you add.

Taemoo—or Sunny as you’ve been affectingly calling him for the past sixteen years—comes closer with some hesitation. He’s clutching the flowers like a shield. Despite the nerves, there’s a quiet strength about him.

“I don’t have much to offer, but I have water, cookies, biscuits, and hot chocolate. Would you want something?” you propose.

“No, thanks,” he gives you a little smile.

“Please take a seat,” you offer while showing the chair next to yours.

For a little moment, he hesitates before sitting next to you. Your heart is hammering in your chest, ready to burst any second. The little man you gave birth to sixteen years ago is now standing before you. The same boy you gave up for adoption merely three days after his birth.

“Sorry, I didn’t properly introduce myself,” he mumbles.

As much as you want to tell him that he doesn’t need to, you need to hear him say it out loud.

“I am Taemoo, your son,” he says.

“Hello, Taemoo,” you gently say. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

Tears start running down your face as you look at him. Sixteen years ago, you were holding him in your arms while your heart was completely ripped out. You were looking down at him knowing you’d have to say goodbye.

“I… I brought you these,” he shows the bouquet in his hands.

Your chest tightens as you take the flowers. “Thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “They’re beautiful—sunflowers are my favorite.”

“I know,” he murmurs, glancing at the floor. “Mr. Jeon told me.”

Your heart melts; this boy definitely seems to have a big heart. More silent tears run down your face while you look down again at the flowers.

“I have to ask,” you say after a little while. “How did you find me?”

You try to clean your face to compose yourself.

“I was in the hospital for a checkup, and I noticed Mr. Jeon at the front desk asking about you,” he explains. “I also know your name because he gave it to me when we met,” he adds.

You nod slowly, absorbing his words. It kind of warms your heart that Jungkook talked about you to Taemoo, but it aches your heart that this is how he got to meet you. You would have largely preferred you had organized this reunion.

“I’m glad you came.”

Your firstborn shifts nervously in his chair. “I wasn’t sure if I should,” he admits. “I didn’t know if you ever wanted to see me.”

It breaks your heart to hear those words as you picture him worried to come. There’s no doubt that it’s brave of him to come here. He could have stumbled upon a mother who didn’t want to see him; he was for sure aware of it.

“Taemoo,” you start saying. “You have every right to be here,” your voice slightly trembles. “I’ve spent the last sixteen years wondering how it’d be to see you again.”

But you also wondered if it was a good idea to even look for him. You never wanted to shake his world up, especially after giving him up for adoption.

“I don’t want to bother you,” he says. “I just…” he’s quite hesitating to continue his sentence, and you nod, silently encouraging him to proceed with what he has in mind. “I just needed to see you.”

“You’re not bothering me at all,” you reassure him instantly.

For a moment, silence falls between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. You don’t add anything else as you let him take the lead. He’s the one who was brave enough to come so you want him to say everything his heart desires.

“I have questions,” he finally speaks. “About why. Why gave me up for adoption.”

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat growing.

“Jungkook never told you why?” you question.

“Yes, he did but he never spoke on your behalf. He only gave his reasons.”

This is the Jungkook that you know, and it is very fond of him.

“I couldn’t be a mother,” your voice trembles. “I desired nothing more than to be a mother for you, but I couldn’t give you what you needed. I wanted you to have a life I couldn’t give you at the time.”

It’s hard to tell him why you abandoned him. You’re not even sure he can understand your reasons.

“I was just a girl when I had you; I was your age. I was so scared, but I thought only about your future. You deserved to have a good life, to have parents who would give you everything you needed. In my mind, the best thing for you was to give you up for adoption.”

There’s also the part where you cheated on your boyfriend, but that’s something he doesn’t need to know.

His expression is unreadable, but you notice his hands unclenching. This might be a good sign.

“Did you regret it?” his voice is barely above a whisper.

“Every single day,” you confess. You’re unable to stop the tears now. “The day I handed you over was the hardest day of my life. I’ve spent the last sixteen years wondering what you’ve become, but I was too afraid to find you,” you feel extremely vulnerable in front of your son. “I thought you’d hate me.”

Taemoo looks away, staring at the floor while he processes your words. It isn’t easy for him to be here and to know the truth. Jungkook said the same time. He was too young to be a father; he was a total idiot back then, and he tried to give his son the best life he could.

“I don’t hate you,” he softly says, and relief washes over you. “I never hated you because I had a good life, but I’ve spent my whole life wondering if I would have had as well a good life with my biological parents.”

You’re convinced it wouldn’t have been the case.

“Thanks for answering my questions,” he gently says.

Another silence settles between you, but less tense this time.

“Mr. Jeon…” he hesitantly says. “He told me you like books,” he says, changing the subject.

At this stage, you’re wondering what Jungkook hasn’t said about you. First, there are the flowers; now, it’s the books.

“What are you reading?”

You’re grateful he swifts the topic of conversation. It was heavy to be talking to him about your painful past. Smiling, you reach for the book on the bed, and show it to Taemoo.  

“It’s one of the books I bought years ago but never read,” he takes the book to look at it.

“I like books too,” he admits while looking at the book. “Mostly history, and fantasy too.”

Your heart warms as he gives you a small glimpse into his life.

“I’d love to know what you’re reading,” you say. “Maybe you could recommend me something?” you’re hesitant.

“Sure,” he straightaway answers. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time,” you murmur while holding onto those words like a lifeline.

Taemoo gives you a small smile. Slowly, you reach for his hand, and for a brief moment, he freezes, then lets you hold it.

“Thanks, Taemoo,” your voice is filled with emotions.

He nods with still that small smile on his face. “If you don’t mind, we could exchange numbers?” he asks with hesitation.

“Yes, of course,” you smile at him, giving his hand a small squeeze.

Your phone is on the other side of the bed, so you slowly try to get up with your glamorous cane. Taemoo stands up without any second thoughts to help you out. He’s already as tall as Jungkook; you don’t doubt he’ll be taller than him. You walk very slowly, and your son doesn’t leave your side in case you need him.

Once you’ve reached your phone, you unlock it to give it to him. “You can type your number and save it,” you say.

Taemoo freezes when he notices your background. There are three kids, and he realizes how much they resemble him. Even though he looks a lot like Jungkook, he also takes a lot after you.

“Are those my siblings?” he asks when he glances at you.

“Yes,” you answer. “I had three other kids years after you.”

“They look adorable,” he tells you before proceeding to save his number on your phone.

He calls himself, so he can also have your number. After that, he helps you to sit again on the chair before leaving the room.  The room suddenly feels empty as Taemoo leaves you alone with the flowers and the overwhelming realization that your son—the boy you thought you’d lost forever—is finally back in your life.

Today, Jungkook took a day off because he’s going out with you.

It’s not really a date —at least, that's what you’re both trying to convince yourselves. It’s been like a week that you’re out of the hospital, and he promised he’d take you on a car ride. Even though you walk better than you did some days ago, you’re still very slow. However, it doesn’t change the fact that you want to go out a bit.

For the past few days, you’ve both spent a lot of time together. It’s been great to be around you again. Things are very different now because you’re both grown-ups with kids, and there’s a lifetime that happened since you last saw each other. But he still feels the same around you. He still has that massive crush on you.

Honestly, he thought that with time, it’d fade away, but he was wrong. He understood it the second he pulled you out of that car. Being around you brings him peace. He feels like he doesn’t have to play a role; he simply can be himself.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Somewhere,” he quickly eyes you before focusing on the road again.

Sixteen years ago, he knew he could never have you because of the circumstances. It was obvious to him that you loved him back, but it simply wasn’t possible. However, today, things are different. He still has a crush on you, and he will do everything in his power to not let you go.

“You’ll like it,” he smiles at you.

You look at him with suspicion.

“Let’s see,” you mumble.

Since you’ve been discharged from the hospital, Jungkook has been kind of scared to put you back in a car. So, for this day out, he asked you a million times if you’d be okay. You reassured him because it didn’t really frighten you.

Your baby daddy has been thoughtfully thinking about the place he could take you to. There are for sure hundreds of places, but he wants something special. However, above anything else, he wants to distract you.

He has noticed how you sometimes contort with pain. Definitely, you try to hide it but he can see it through your eyes. Most of the time, he feels sorry to see you in that state. It doesn’t look great at all. Nonetheless, he’s been trying to help.

Taemoo has also passed by once or twice at your parents’ place. Jungkook has never been present because he wants you two to get to know each other without him being in the middle. He definitely wishes the three of you to be reunited, but let’s take this step by step. It’s difficult for everyone.

“How has it been going to come back home?” he asks.

“Not easy…” you admit. “The kids struggle to not be staying at my place, even myself.”

Unfortunately, you can’t stay alone since anything can happen and you need help. So you’re staying at your parent’s place. You’re sleeping in your old bedroom that has since been transformed into a kid’s room for your babies. Your old bed is still there, but it doesn’t feel like your actual bed.

“They cry when they have to leave with their father. They really want to stay at my parents’ place with me, but it’s already very crowded.”

Your sister still lives with your parents, she’s only 22; she’s still very young. Well, she refuses to let you call her young because, at 22, you were getting married to Minkyu.

“They understand the situation, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s hard for them.”

Jungkook nods as he can only imagine how this situation feels for everybody. Hopefully, things will slowly get better, and you’ll be able to recover quickly.

“I don’t like to complain, but it’s already physically hard, so seeing them like that makes it harder,” you admit.

It leaves you wondering if it will be like that until the end of your recovery.

“Then, it’s a good thing I take you out for a little bit today,” he smiles, trying to change the conversation.

“It is,” you smile at him.

It’s warming your heart that he has been very present for almost a month. There hasn’t been a day where he didn’t visit you, even if it was for five minutes. You feel lucky to have him during this tough time; he’s been quite a comforting and reassuring presence.

After maybe half an hour, you reach a parking lot from a park located on a high hill. It’s a park you and Jungkook terribly loved. You’d come here towards the end of the pregnancy when you couldn’t sleep.

“So, what do you think?”

“I like this place,” a bright smile grows on your face.

“I know,” he says.

This is definitely very thoughtful of him.

Jungkook leaves the car to help you get out of it. As you think you are going to walk for a bit, the man just holds you in his arms, one of his arms under your back, and the other under your legs. You instantly wrap your hands around his neck. Your faces are pretty close, and all thoughts are shut down by the irresistible desire to kiss him.

“Since there’s a lot to walk before reaching our spot, it’s better if I bring you there,” he confesses.

“Always trying to play the superhero,” you mumble.

“Eeh, I’m not,” he straight away answers. “I’m just trying to make your life easier.”

You roll your eyes while giggling.

“I can let you walk if you prefer but don’t blame it on me afterward,” he says while slowly pretending to put you down.

“Okay, okay,” you retreat in defeat. “Take me there.”

A smile grows on his face before he starts walking in the direction of your spot. It’s a bench where you have the perfect view of the city. At night, it’s wonderful as the buildings are lightening up. You spent many nights here sixteen years ago with your head on his shoulder, and your hand on your belly. Sunny would kick quite a lot during those moments, and Jungkook’s hand would rest on your bump to feel his son.

You were young and stupid, but definitely in love at that moment. A month before your son’s birth, you shared a passionate kiss on that bench. It was a highly desired one. You shared other kisses afterward but they never felt like that first one.

Surprisingly, when you reach the famous bench, nobody is sitting there. Usually, back in the day, that bench was always occupied during the day, only being empty at night.

“It almost feels like you booked the bench,” you chuckle.

“I could of,” he answers. “But I don’t have the means.”

Jungkook sits you down on the bench before taking a seat next to you. Gently, he grabs your legs to place them on top of his. He’s aware of how painful it can be for you to have your knees bent. At least like that, they are almost flat.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” your eyes look at the handsome firefighter instead of the pretty view.

The man only offers you a gentle smile, and the two of you now look at the city stretching before your eyes. It is very different than it was sixteen years ago. The city has grown bigger, some buildings were replaced by others or some even were destroyed. Everything is different while still being the same. Like how it feels to be around Jungkook.  

“Can I ask you a question?” Jungkook breaks the silence between you.

Your eyes look back at him, and his expression is unreadable.

“Sure,” you nod.

“Would you have given us a shot if you hadn’t gotten pregnant?” he asks with some sort of hesitation.

The questions catches you by surprise as it is the last thing you thought he’d ever ask.

“To be honest, I don’t know,” you say. “I was feeling so guilty about what I did to Minho, I felt stupid, and I was avoiding you.”

Well, he felt that.

“I avoided you because I really adored what happened with you,” you say. “You were really good in bed,” he smiles at your words. “But I looked at you differently because I got pregnant.”

Sixteen years ago, you never had a conversation about your feelings for him. But it definitely looks like you’re having it now.

“You were by my side every second. You’d cook whatever I was craving, you’d be at every appointment, you’d hold me when I cried, you’d do anything when I was in pain, and you’d bring me here when I couldn’t sleep.”

Your heart is beating fast as you’re about to pronounce the next words.

“I fell in love with that Jungkook,” the firefighter’s heart is also hammering in his chest. “Not with the jerk who’d flirt with me.”

His cheeks are getting red with shyness. After all these years, and even though he knew his feelings were reciprocated, he feels like a teenager falling in love for the first time.

“We were two when we conceived Sunny, so I naturally had to get my shit together and be by your side and help you as much as I could,” he says. “I was for sure a jerk back then, but I’d always assume the consequences of my actions.”

His heart is hammering faster as he takes his courage to speak out loud about how he has been feeling about you. 

“I also had a crush on you so I also saw that as a way to spend more time with you,” now you’re the one blushing.

Anyone observing this scene from outside would instantly get how smitten you are. The person would even bet that you’re together.

“Do you still have a crush on me?” you question.

You’re way too curious, but you definitely want to know because damn, you’d kiss that man right now.

Jungkook gets closer to your face, his hands moving to your thighs to caress them. Not in a sensual way.

“What would happen if I say yes?” he whispers when his face is extremely close to yours.

“You’ll have to find out,” you teasingly say.

His eyes move from your eyes to your lips as he desires nothing but the same as you. To kiss you.    

“Yes,” he says without any hesitation. “I still have a crush on you.”

You bite your lower lip before breaking the small space between you to fervently kiss him. Having his lips finally against yours feels like a relief, almost as if you’ve been waiting sixteen years to feel them again.

The kiss is shy at first as if you’re both scared but it slowly turns into a desperate and fervent one. One of his hands goes to the back of your neck while the other remains on your thigh. Your hands cup his face while you intensely kiss each other. 

This feels like heaven for you two. You open your mouth, giving him free access to it. His tongue doesn’t hesitate one second to find yours. Gently, your tongues meet and it feels wonderful. Inside of your lower belly, thousands of butterflies are freed. Never have you thought that this would happen again although you’ve thought about it since reuniting with him.

When you’re both out of breath, you break the kiss and rest your forehead against his. For a moment, you simply look at each other while you catch your breath. Jungkook’s fingers softly caress your face, and you close your eyes to savor this moment. 

“I’ve dreamed of this since I found you again,” he admits.

Jungkook presses once more his mouth against yours. A soft moan leaves his mouth when your lips meet. He wants to keep doing this forever. He teasingly bites your lower lip which causes a moan to escape your mouth. A devious smirk appears on his face but he gets back to kissing you fervently.

Before the kiss takes a very dirty turn, you break it. “It isn’t the appropriate place for that,” you whisper.

He giggles as he realizes he was ready to take it to the next level in a public place. The firefighter presses a gentle kiss on your lips before you resume to admire the view.

After a couple of hours, he takes you back to your parents’ house. Your mind is filled with euphoria from the kisses you shared earlier, and you can’t help but smile every time you think about it. Kissing Jungkook still feels the same. It still tastes like heaven.  

When you’re home, you notice nobody’s here which is a bit weird, especially since you warned your parents you’ll take a shower today. Maybe they went for a walk since you were with Jungkook.

“Would you mind staying a bit?” you ask. “I need to take a shower, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable alone.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he says.

Jungkook assists you until you reach the bathroom and grabs underwear, a bra, pants, and a shirt from your bedroom.

“You’re sure you’ll be able to be by yourself?” he asks with concern.

“I have a stool and everything I need has been placed at the stool level,” you explain. “So don’t worry.”

Jungkook can’t help but feel worried. Even if it’d be weird to be in the bathroom with you, he’d feel reassured.

“If I need anything, I’ll call you,” you add.

There’s not much he can do, except to leave you alone.

“Okay,” he presses a gentle kiss on your lips before leaving.

You sit on the stool to get undressed. To remove your shirt and bra, it’s quite easy, but to take off your pants and panties, it’s a whole other story. Your mother has been helping you a lot with the shower part, and you’ve been feeling like a five-year-old who can’t do much by herself.

The last two showers, you’ve been able to do everything by yourself, and you’ve been very proud of yourself. However, right now, you’re struggling a lot. It’s frustrating you beyond comprehension, but you remind yourself that you need to calm down otherwise, it’ll only be worse.

After a little while, you simply resign and call for Jungkook. He arrives in a rush, and his heart breaks a little when he sees your defeated face.

“Struggling?” he asks when he notices your pants stuck at your knees level.

“I can’t push them further than that,” you pout.

He walks in your direction, kneeling before you. “Let me help you.”

His hands carefully push your pants down and throw them onto the floor. Then, before even touching your panties, his eyes look up at you, asking for your consent. Even though you called him for help, he wouldn’t want to cross any line. Consent is important, after all.

You simply nod, you don’t have much of a choice here. His fingers brush against the skin of your hips, causing goosebumps all over your body. Last time he touched you there was the day you conceived Taemoo, sixteen years ago. Your eyes are frozen on him.

Jungkook grabs the hem of your panties to push them down your legs, his fingers brushing against your hot skin. You’re now fully naked in front of him, and it feels incredibly weird although he already saw you like this. But at the same time, it feels reassuring to have him here with you.

“Do you want me to help you wash? Or would you be fine now?” he asks while standing up.

“Help me please,” you almost beg. “Not sure I’ll be able to wash if I can’t even remove my clothes,” you laugh a bit.

You try not to cry at this whole situation. It’s better to laugh at it than cry.

“Okay,” he turns the water on. “You’re going to wash your hair?”

“No, no,” you answer. “Just my body.”

The man in front of you nods and hands you the showerhead.

“Let me know when it is too hot,” he tells you.

You’re holding the showerhead with one hand while the other is below to check the water temperature. In the meantime, Jungkook removes his socks in order for him to get inside the shower.

Once done, his eyes look at you with admiration. For almost a month, you’ve been going through hell with everything that has been going on. You’ve been handling things like a champion even though it’s sometimes very clear you’re suffering terribly. He has nothing but admiration for you.

His heart swells with happiness because, in the midst of all that, you chose to let him be by your side. He even got to kiss you.

“It’s good now,” you tell him with a smile.  

Jungkook grabs the showerhead to run it over your body. He carefully executes the task while being extremely focused on not forgetting any body parts of yours.

“With my mum, we always do the intimate parts at the end,” you inform him.

“No problem,” he answers.

Once your body has been fully covered in water, he seizes the shower gel.

“Do you want to do it?” he asks with the gel in his hands.

Usually, with your mum, you do it, but with Jungkook, you’ll gladly let him do it. You really want to feel his fingers touch your body. 

“Could you please do it?” he nods.

Jungkook understands that you simply want to feel his touch, and he won’t complain as he desires nothing but to touch your soft skin.

There is nothing sexual about this moment. The two of you would even say that it’s a very intimate moment, even more intimate than sex.

The man covers your entire body with soap before holding back the showerhead to clean you. Once done, you stand up so you can clean your last body parts, which are your vagina and ass. This time around, you want to do it yourself as you feel like it could take a naughty turn if he touches you down there.

Jungkook leaves the shower. “Where are the towels?”

“In the storage cabinet below the sink,” you inform him.

Seconds later, when you cut the water, he wraps you in the towel before you sit back again on the stool.

“Thanks for your help,” you say.

As you slowly wake up, you feel a warm presence behind you which is something not normal. Since you’ve been back from the hospital, you’ve been sleeping alone in your old bed.

Then, you start remembering what happened yesterday. After the shower, your parents arrived and were very delighted to see Jungkook. A bit later, your sister came from work. Your parents naturally invited him to stay for dinner.

Once dinner was over, you practically begged him to stay the night. You then went to your room, and watched “Enola Holmes 2”, but you instantly fell asleep with your body pressed against his, your head against his chest.  His heartbeat was the little melody that rocked you to sleep.

Your eyes adjust to the light in which the room is immersed. You turn around to see Jungkook sleeping like a baby, and he looks absolutely adorable.

In this quite big bed, it seems like he’s so far away from you as he isn’t close to you. There’s a distance between the two of you that makes you smile; you know he purposely put that distance. He respects you way too much, and he wouldn’t do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. 

You turn again before closing your eyes to remember what happened yesterday. It was an intense day, but intense in a good way. As you remember the kisses you shared, you run your fingers over your lips. He still kisses like a god.  

Yesterday, you felt so much alive. You didn’t feel that way for already a couple of years. Hopefully, this is a feeling that’ll stay longer. You don’t want it to fade away so soon.   

Suddenly, the bed moves behind you. A big hand carefully wraps around your waist while a mouth presses a gentle kiss on your shoulder, and a body snuggles up against yours. Instantly, your eyes close to savor this precise moment. 

Both of you snuggle together for a little while, just enjoying the closeness of your bodies together. Waking up with someone and with his arms wrapped around you is something you haven’t experienced in a while. The last time it happened was when you were still married to Minkyu.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he whispers with his hoarse morning voice before pressing a sweet kiss on your neck. 

Goosebumps rise all over your skin because this is a beautiful way to wake up. Damn, you wouldn’t mind waking up every day to this.

Jungkook feels your shivers beneath his hand, a smirk growing on his face. It feels like a victory to have already made you feel this good so early in the morning.  

“Morning, Jungkook,” you whisper. 

Naturally, your back arches, pushing your ass back to meet his crotch which makes him groan against your skin. Your cheeks instantly turn red and you push your ass away from his intimate parts.

“Sorry,” you say.

Jungkook also feels a bit embarrassed that his little friend down there is already all turned on. But what can he say, he spent the night with the girl of his dreams.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he whispers. “I’m already all turned on.”

Since you’re still flustered, you don’t dare to turn to look at him. He’s also grateful for that; he would hide his face in the pillow if you ever look at him.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you say. “I mean, it’s normal.”

“I know, but it’s awkward for both of us,” he answers.

For a moment, you don’t say anything as you try to find your words.

“I’m actually flattered,” you break the silence. “Wasn’t expecting to turn someone on this early in the morning.”

Jungkook gets closer to you once more, his hard member pressing against your ass through his underwear. That feeling alone causes your walls to clench around emptiness. You also bite your lower lip to repress any moan that might escape your mouth. You’re at your parents’ house, anyone could hear you.

His arms wrap around your waist once more before he presses another kiss on your neck. A very soft moan manages to escape, causing Jungkook to feel some kind of pride. His fingers slip beneath your shirt to caress every part of your body with his cold fingers.

Your back arches at the sensation while one of your hands goes to his head, your fingers running through his hair. Your other hand goes to your mouth to muffle the sounds of your moans. You don’t know exactly what time it is, so you’re not sure if there’s somebody at the house. To be safe, it’s better not to moan like a mess.

Then, his fingers move down on your body, pushing your pajamas’ pants and underwear together. The cold air that brushes against your core makes you grow wetter. Thank god you have your hand in your mouth because there’s no doubt this would have made you moan.

His fingers slowly get closer and closer to your bundle of nerves. By the time his fingers reach your clit, you’re already completely soaked. 

“Someone else is already all turned on,” he whispers in your ear before licking and nibbling it. “Tell me what you want, sunshine.” 

The simple fact that he asks what you want is a big turn-on. Men tend to forget that during an intimate moment, it isn’t all about themselves and their pleasure. It’s about two people trying to give and have pleasure.

Your back arches a bit more, rubbing your ass more against his semi-hard cock. A deep growl echoes against your ear. Your mind is going completely crazy. There’s one thing you desperately crave right now: him inside you.

“You,” is actually the first word that crosses your mind. “You inside me with your hand on my throat,” you clarify. 

Well, the only time you had sex with Jungkook, it was pretty wild. You both discovered how much you adored having his fingers tightly around your neck. It gave a totally other dimension to the sex. It was even more intense, and you loved it.

“You’re sure?” he still asks to be sure.

He doesn’t want to cause any more pain. 

“Absolutely,” you reassure him.

Your eyes close when his free hand finds its way to your neck, his wonderful and delicate tattooed fingers wrapping around your throat. This feels wonderful, and it gets you wetter.

As you feel a moan ready to leave your mouth, you sink your teeth into your lower lip. There’s no way you’re going to muffle all your moans. This is already too wild for you, and you know it’s going to get even wilder.

“I’d give anything to see the way you look with my hand around that pretty neck of yours, sunshine” he whispers in the shell of your ear, his deep voice emphasizing the word ‘sunshine’. 

With your eyes closed, you can perfectly picture the way his hand fits on you. Jungkook can imagine it too, causing chills to run through his skin. 

While his hand caresses your neck, the other one does wonders to your clit. The torture is exquisite, nothing feels as good as having his hands on you. His hand works harder on your core to make you wetter. The man is already desperate to give you what you want. Him inside you. 

Once he feels you’re wet enough, his fingers leave your pussy alone to pull your leg up a bit, this way will be easier for him to push his cock inside you. Quite rapidly, he takes off his underwear.

“At any time, let me know if I hurt you, okay?” he whispers with evident concern.

“Don’t worry, Kook,” you say.  

His lips pepper the back of your neck with kisses. Your hand goes behind to stroke his cock a bit before rubbing it for a little while against your soaked core. 

“Shit, yn,” he groans against your skin. 

You bite your lower lip because, damn, it’s fucking hot to wake up to this.

As you feel him growing harder in your hand, you decide to push his length into your heated core. Your pussy sucks him all in, his head stretching you open as he goes further inside you.

“You always feel amazing,” he hisses once he bottoms up.

Small and barely audible moans and whimpers leave the two of you as you both enjoy feeling your bodies connected. Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, giving your body time to adjust to him.

It’s been a while since you last had sex together, and Jungkook’s cock tends to be quite big. That was for sure something you’d never forget. How could you? If you compare to all the dicks you experience, he’d be the biggest.

But it isn’t the kind of big that makes it painful. It’s actually the opposite. You’d say that his dick is simply perfect.

“Move, Kook,” you give him a small slap on his ass to urge him. 

You need him, in ways you can’t even express. 

The man doesn’t need to be told twice before he starts thrusting into you very slowly and deeply with his hand still around your throat. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as the creaky bed quickly fills the room. 

Jungkook takes all his time, he isn’t rushing anything because damn, he wants you both to enjoy this moment. His lips stay on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses to avoid moaning. His other hand holds your leg up while he rolls his hips in a way that you absolutely adore. 

The hand on your neck and his dick deep inside you are the perfect combos to make you come in a snap. None of you speak, only enjoying this torrid moment.

The man behind you feels that he’s slowly losing you, that you’re losing yourself further in the pleasure that only he can give you. So, he lightly tightens his hand around your throat to help you reach your orgasm faster. 

“Fuck,” you swear as his fingers wrap tighter around your neck. 

This is more than bliss for you, you could just come right now because of his hand but you don’t want to let go of your orgasm. You want to let it grow immensely until it becomes too overwhelming for you. You want this orgasm to be like an explosion of fireworks inside you. 

“You take me so well,” he whispers before bringing your face closer to his to press his lips against yours. Your walls clench around him causing his cock to twitch inside you. A guttural groan leaves his pretty lips, a groan that you happily swallow.  

Wanting to bring him closer to the edge, you start moving your hips in circles while he keeps thrusting into you at a very slow and torturous pace. His lips leave yours, his eyes close shut, and barely audible moans keep flooding out of his mouth.    

“Keep doing that, yn,” he pants.   

His cock goes deeper inside you, filling you up fully and hitting all the right spots which causes the pleasure to grow stronger within you. Your moans are harder to suppress, it feels good to be railed by Jungkook this early in the morning. Morning sex is honestly one of the best types of sex.

He groans deeply against your ear, your orgasm building stronger and stronger. You know that in a matter of seconds, you’ll be coming undone, and Jungkook senses it too. Your hips never stop moving in tandem with his but as you get closer to your high, your walls squeeze him harder. 

As he gets lost in the euphoria of the moment, he starts thrusting more harshly. Both of you are chasing your own orgasm while bringing the other closer to the edge. It doesn’t take you too much time to be fiercely hit by that overwhelming wave of pleasure, making you come undone around his massive cock. 

“Jungkook, fuck!” you cry with ecstasy, your hips stopping completely to move but the man behind you never stops moving. 

“Can I come inside?” you simply nod, barely able to make a proper sentence in the middle of this euphoric state.   

Both his hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly as he releases his thick load inside you. A lewd moan escapes your mouth when he pumps his hot cum inside you, pushing it as deep as possible inside you. 

For a little while, both of you stay in this position, his hands still holding you tight against him while his cock remains inside you. None of you wants to break this moment but you have to since you’ll need to leave the bed.  

Very slowly, you remove yourself from his cock to stand up from the bed. “Can I ask you to help me put on my underwear and pants?” you ask.

Without hesitation, Jungkook stands up while grabbing your clothes. As yesterday, he kneels before you to dress you. A smile spreads across your face as you look down at him. This man is, without any doubt, the kind of man you want to have in your life. He’s been nothing but a sweetheart with you.

“Thanks a lot, Jk,” you say once fully dressed.

The man carefully spreads your legs to situate himself between them.

“No problem, sunshine,” he presses a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Also, I’d like to mention that I take the pill,” you mention with a silly smile on your face. “So we won’t have any other surprise kid.”

Jungkook smiles and kisses you once more.

“I’m glad to know that,” he whispers against your lips.

Still fully naked, he stands up to assist you to do the same. Once you’re straightened up, you take the glamorous cane. At the same time, Jungkook puts his clothes back on because there’s no way he’s going to leave this bedroom naked. It’d be way too embarrassing.

This impressive man helps you go to the bathroom and, then, to the kitchen. At first, it seems like there’s only the two of you since you don’t hear any noise. However, to your surprise, when you reach the kitchen, you find your sister sitting at the table and eating breakfast.

“Good morning,” you say with evident joy.

“Only good morning to you,” she snaps back.

You frown with confusion. Your sister looks you dead in the eyes, totally ignoring Jungkook’s presence in the same room.

“I really didn’t need to know how you two conceived your first kid,” she explains.

Both you and Jungkook open your eyes wide; you weren’t expecting that at all. But there were chances that someone would have heard you. It’s definitely weird your sister was the one. You wouldn’t want to hear her having sex with someone.

“Hopefully, this time around, there won’t be any other kid,” Jungkook manages to say.  

Your sister laughs a bit. “I like this one,” she takes a sip of coffee. “He seems better than the other ones, and he’s also a lot hotter than them.”

Jungkook starts laughing as he helps you to take a seat.

“She’s funny,” he whispers to your ear.

“Don’t be silly,” you tell your sister. “And please, go find a guy so you don’t drool over mine.”

Although you haven’t defined your relationship for now, he’s flattered you consider him as ‘your guy’.

“How can I compete with a firefighter?” she teases. “Anyone will feel boring next to Jungkook,” she adds.

“If you want, I can introduce you to my colleagues,” he suggests.

“Don’t encourage her in her nonsense,” you tell him.

“Yes, please,” she says with enthusiasm.

You roll your eyes. She’s unbelievable and definitely very crazy, but that’s maybe why you love her so damn much.  

After that, together with Jungkook, you prepare breakfast while speaking with your sister. She leaves a couple of minutes later because she needs to meet with her best friend downtown. And right after her, Jungkook leaves you alone in your parents’ house which breaks your heart. However, you don’t stay very long by yourself as your kids come to visit you with their father.

Three weeks later

You and Jungkook are sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant. Your heart is beating fast with nervousness.

“Everything is going to be fine,” he tries to reassure you while resting his hand on top of yours.

“Don’t know,” you mumble.

Today, you’ve organized a dinner with Jungkook and Taemoo; your first time as a family. It’s weird to even think about it, but Taemoo really wanted to spend some time with you, together. Since he proposed this, you’ve been feeling very nervous. You’re a bit scared of how things will go when you’re finally the three of you together.

“There’s no reason for this to not go well,” he answers.

Before you can even answer, Taemoo joins you with a bright smile on his face. Like the first time you met him, he’s very well dressed.

“Hello,” he says. “I brought you these,” he hands you a tiny bouquet composed of three sunflowers. “It’s one sunflower for each of us.”

Your heart has completely melted now. This kid is so damn thoughtful, just like his biological father. His parents definitely raised him well, and it only reassures you that the decision you made sixteen years ago was the right one.

“Hello, Taemoo,” you say while standing up to hold your son in your arms. “Thanks a lot.”

Your firstborn wraps his arms around yours. This is a heartfelt moment; being able to hug him fills your heart with so much love. It feels like holding Jiwoo even though you didn’t raise Taemoo. Unfortunately, you can’t hold him for a long moment due to your wonderful knees. So he then greets Jungkook before taking a seat in the empty chair.

“Thanks for accepting this,” those are his first words.

Although he seems very happy and relaxed, you notice he’s a bit stressed.

“After seeing you separately, I really wanted to spend a bit of time with the two of you,” he starts saying. “Not sure how this will evolve in the future, but I’d like to sometimes organize this kind of diner.”

For the past few weeks, your life has drastically changed, and honestly, sometimes, you feel like it’s too much. However, having Jungkook and Sunny back in your life is what you consider to be a blessing. In all this chaos, you found two deeply important people that you left sixteen years ago.

The sixteen-year-old version of you was devasted to part ways from them two, thinking that you’ll never see them again. If she could see this today, the heartbreak would have been less painful. But that version of you is beyond happy today to see the three of you sitting at the same table.

This car accident destroyed your knees and stomach, but it has brought you Jungkook and Sunny. All of this would not be happening without this accident.

You also can’t wait to see your three other little munchkins with the man you love and their older sibling. Undoubtedly, that day will be the most wonderful day of your life. Now, you feel like you can finally truly be happy. You now have all the people you need to be happy.    

[sttoru]

your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. suggestive, mild (to somewhat) nsfw, fluff. lots of kissing. lots and lots of kissing and loving. he fondles and gropes you everywhere basically. clingy satoru. tiny bit size difference (yes ok im a slut, what about it). body worship kinda. readers gets called ‘sweet / pretty girl, baby, princess’. beta read? what’s that.

you fell for it again; satoru told you it was only going to be a quick peck on the lips. ‘i promise, baby, c'moooon’ — you recall him begging in that whiny voice of his. that's all what was needed to make you putty in his hands.

“fine, but only one kiss, okay?” you gave in and walked over to satoru, climbed onto your shared bed and leaned in for a swift kiss—only for his strong arms to cage you in and never let go. it had been ten minutes since; the apartment was silent, except for the lewd sounds of your shared kisses and heavy breaths.

satoru’s soft hands are wandering everywhere. from cupping your cheeks to rubbing your sides and gripping your ass. the clock was ticking loudly, but the sound of it was drowned out by your moans. and satoru’s low, needy whimpers.

the appointment you were getting ready for had long slipped your mind.

“mh, you’re such a good kisser, baby,” the white-haired man sighs. he absolutely loves the way you follow the movements of his glossy lips—your head tilting to the side and back—automatically accomodating to satoru’s motions. he was kissing you with an urgent need. one you had never known or witnessed before, “more, ngh, need more of you, please.”

satoru was not letting up. you couldn’t blame him; it was easy to get lost in this warm and cherished moment of peace. his sweet kisses switched intensity—going from innocent kisses to sloppy ones, resulting in your chin dripping with a mixture of saliva.

you whine and straddle satoru’s lap which earns you a happy hum from your lover. that was his plan all along: to completely distract you from the fact that you had to leave the house. that you had to leave his side. others would call it annoyingly clingy, but satoru absolutely needs your lips on his.

he is sure that he would go insane if he spent a whole day without kissing you. an hour is already too long, if he is honest.

satoru would love to kiss you until the end of time. until death comes knocking onto his door. the last thing he desires to feel is your plump lips and wet tongue wrapped around his. a peaceful, warm death. one with no regrets.

“mhmmm, fuck, you taste so sweet.” satoru's eyebrow furrow in delight. he is nearly overstimulated by the taste of you. the way your small body clings onto him, your hands holding onto his jaw and sliding down his chest, your sounds of pleasure that only he could ever have the honour of hearing.

it was perfect. all of you was perfect.

your parted lips make way for his tongue again. satoru slips his tongue inside your mouth. it was tender, yet demanding. your throat tightens up and a choked moan fills his ears. his cold fingers make contact with the warm skin of your midriff. they were aiming at one place; your chest.

the one satoru loves to fondle no matter when or where. the same one he loves to use as a pillow every night.

“nnh, ‘toru, need’to breathe,” you are running out of air. the short gasps you took between the heated kisses were not enough to fill your lungs. but, it was addicting. the shortness of breath the two of you experienced only served as more proof of your love.

neither of you want to pull away—to pause the make out session for even what could be a split second.

the older man below you is hesistant. he does not want to let go of you. it's like you’re asking him to break up—that’s how much it hurts him to stop kissing you.

however, he felt a bit light-headed from the lack of oxygen as well. satoru pulls away, but not without sweeping his tongue over your bottom lip, lapping up the drool that dripped down the corners of your mouth.

his eyes are half-lidded and glazed over with both love and lust. you stabilise yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders and satoru rubs your back to help calm you down further. a ghost of a grin tugs at his lips. he surely is enjoying your adorable, exhausted demeanour. your chest was heaving up and down—his fingers sneaking to your front and wrapping around a breast to feel its tenderness.

“pretty,” satoru sighs. he takes the chance once your lips part to take a deep breath. his tongue quickly slips in, invading your mouth and exploring every inch before separating the two of you again. he can not go a minute without kissing you. you sure are like a drug to him, “thank you, princess.”

you are surprised by the sudden tongue kiss, but brush it off with a chuckle. you know how satoru is; not able to keep away from you in heated moments like these. his large hands fondling, groping and squeezing every area of your body only proves that point.

“thank you for what?” you ask, planting a soft peck on his lips. your boyfriend responds by holding the back of your head. he leans in for another kiss like a man depraved of any affection. you shudder and hold onto him like he there is no tomorrow. he does the same back, squeezing you against his chest.

satoru slightly tilts his head back to answer your question. his breath was hot on your mouth, a faint string of saliva hanging between your bottom lips. he can not hold the urge. he can not answer. his lips are already colliding with yours once more.

over and over. until the two of you were out of breath and needed a break again.

“thank you for being with me,” satoru answers in a quiet whisper. the pad of his thumb brushes back and forth against the waistband of the shorts you are wearing. there is an urge to pull them down and reveal those pretty little panties you are wearing, but his current priority is to feel your mouth on his.

until he gets enough. which is never. never in a million years.

“thank you for everything, honestly,” satoru continues and leaves a couple wet kisses down your neck. his hands do not leave your perfect body. he’s admiring every curve - every body part that had yet to be touched, “could have never believed that i’d end up with such a pretty girl. but, here i am, with the prettiest girl in the world in my arms.”

satoru had a way with words. one that left you flustered like crazy each time. he looks at you and that’s when you know that he means every word. his eyes were shining, even when half-lidded. the admiration in them more than just visible.

he looks at your face and body like he’s witnessing the world's greatest treasure. and that you surely are.

“stop saying that.” you giggle embarrassedly. you cover your mouth to hide your smile, though satoru is quick to grab your wrist and pull your hand away. he keeps holding onto your arm to prevent you from hiding your face from his sight. and to stop you from hiding your lips from his, of course.

the older man clicks his tongue, scolding you jokingly for trying to hide that precious smile from him. he kisses the corners of your lips, touch lingering against your hot skin, “how am i supposed to admire my pretty girl if she keeps hiding herself, hm?”

you squirm due to satoru’s flirty words. his gentle tone of voice is making you feel those tingles in your lower abdomen. there has not been a single moment in your relationship where your lover made you feel unwanted. it’s been the complete opposite every day.

“someone’s getting a bit squirmy, aye?” your boyfriend teases. he knows that the combination of his words, looks and actions make you weak in the knees. you always react like it’s your first time kissing and that is both endearing and amusing to him.

you can’t control your bodily reactions either. the sight of satoru beneath you is simply too much. his fluffy hair that sits messily due to your fingers that tugged and played around with the strands, his black top riding up to reveal a glimpse of his defined abs and happy trail. . . the faint blush on satoru’s cheeks and the needy look in his eyes.

you surely can’t leave him alone while he looks like that.

“shut up and kiss me already.” you respond with a huff. and so, satoru does. wasting not a single second. kissing you is his job—his passion. the only thing he ever craves for.

the room once again fills with noises of pure contentment, enjoyment and pleasure. it’s just you two in that moment—no one else mattered.

as long as your lips stay attached to each other, no one actually does.